The First Campaign
by Baliansword
Summary: Chaeronea, 338 BC, was Alexander's first battle at the age of 16 under his father Philip. This story shows how Alexander faired, as well as how he realized that he loved Hephaestion. AH included. Some gorey war scenes as well.
1. Chaeronea, 338 BC

Title: "The First Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 1, "Chaeronea, 338 BC"

A/N: I'm trying to make sure that this fiction has some historical evidence in it. Therefore, it takes place in 338 BC at Chaeronea. Chaeronea was the first battle that Alexander faced, under his father Philip. Alexander rode out against the Thebans on the mighty Bucephalus while his father fought against the Athenians. As for the outcome, you shall find it in my fiction. I hope that you enjoy what I am doing. Please review, I always like to hear from readers. Besides, I have not decided yet on how long to make this, I figure maybe a one shot, two chapters? Let me know!

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He stood at the opening of the white canvas tent, looking out at the land as the sun set. It was odd. It seemed that for the first time he was seeing the red blaze of the sun as it spread over the hardened dirt of the land. Slowly as the red faded shadow would take over the dirt. Never before had he thought that the blanket of night was not black, but perhaps a dark shade of purple.

His lips were slightly parted and he took in a breath. His arms were crossed over his chest, rising and falling as he slowly breathed in and out. Anxiety tugged at the muscles in his heart as he watched the sun set. He knew that tomorrow he would ride out into battle on his stead Bucephalus and face the Thebans. It had not worried him before, so why did it worry him so now?

Alexander, the prince of Macedonia, blinked a few more times. He turned his head as he watched a slave of his father's go to each tent and light the lamps that hung from the wooden poles. Alexander reentered his tent before he had to make contact with the slave. He went into the tent, but found himself not knowing what to do next.

He could pick up his worn copy of the _Iliad_ and sit and read, but he knew that this would not put his mind at rest. The only thing that he thought could bring him peace was the one thing that he knew he could not have. Alexander bit his lower lip as he turned, and faced the entrance to the tent. Suddenly he sighed and pushed his way out of the tent.

It was darker now, the sun gone from the sky. The only lights were those that were hanging outside of the poles. Alexander walked amongst the line of tents, trying not to be seen by others. It was late and he knew that many were either sleeping or away at the party that was being thrown by his father. No one should notice him now.

He soon saw the sight that brought comfort to his tired eyes. He slowed his step until he was frozen watching the gift that had been given to him by the gods. Besides Bucephalus it was the only thing in the world that he thought was worth having. The prince stopped and leaned against one of the thick wooden poles outside of a tent and watched the scene that played out before him.

A hand reached as far as it could but could not reach the flame in the lamp. The only thing this rather remarkable hand could reach was the base of the lamp, hitting it with slender fingers, and causing the lamp to swing. Alexander watched as the man batting wildly at the lamp bit his lower lip and leapt up again. He tried once more to knock the lamp down but yet again did not prevail.

Alexander did not understand why he hated the light outside of his tent so. As the dim light fell upon him he looked so very godly. He was a divinity of man. The soft orange glow lingered over his dark brown hair, making it look as if it were itself aglow. The browns were so deep that they seemed unreal, and the golden stands here and there seemed to be gold woven in with the dark bronze hair that fell to just beneath the man's shoulder.

He looked lovely biting his lower lip and swinging once more at the lamp. His eyes, the color of the Mediterranean Sea, were completely fixated upon just this lamp. His concentration caused his brows to come closer together yet there were no lines on his perfectly sculpted face. His jaw was firm as he was intent on striking the lamp he despised so much. Alexander found himself unable to move, only able to watch this lithe figure in his helpless attempt to put out the light in front of his tent.

Alexander had never asked him why the lamp disturbed him so much. Perhaps he could not sleep, but Alexander did not think something so petty would disturb such an unalterable man. There had to be something more to the story and Alexander vowed that he would ask him when he got a chance. But he did not know when that would be. Inside he laughed as the man defiantly leapt up again. Did he not know the reason for the slaves hanging the lamp so high? It was because he had attempted to do this before, and had succeeded in knocking over plenty of lamps and breaking them accidentally.

After some time the man that had been so passionately fighting with an inanimate object turned his head. Alexander had carelessly put his foot down on a pile of dried bush, and had caused a very slight noise. Yet that had been enough to get his attention.

"Alexander," he said as he stepped away from the pole. Alexander did not know why he did it. It could be because he was trying to pretend that he had not been acting so foolishly. Yet Alexander knew that he had caught him off guard and this would account for why he was so jumpy.

"They hang it high so that you cannot put it out," Alexander replied with a smile. He then stepped forward. He was not as tall as the other, but knew that he could get the lamp down. The other had already done a good job of getting the hook to the edge of the nail that held the lamp. One more wild hit and it probably would have fallen. But Alexander took it upon himself to push the pole just once, and the lamp fell.

Both watched as the lamp fell to the ground. The glass broke in tow places and the flame leapt onto a dried patch of grass. Alexander unconcernedly stepped on the small flame, extinguishing it in doing so. He then looked back to the man that he had come to be closer and closer with, yet he had not fully admitted to the other how he really felt, and he feared that he would not comply with Alexander's true wishes for the two of them.

"Thank you," Hephaestion said with a slight smile forming on his lips. He reached down and picked up the base of the lamp and tossed it into the tent behind him. The two large shards of glass he carefully placed in a bucket that sat outside of the tent. He silently hoped that the slaves would not notice the lamp was missing in the morning. Otherwise he would once again have to endure their harsh stares. Each lamp that went missing Philip assumed had been stolen, even though what truly happened to them had been explained to him more than once.

"You should be at the banquet," Hephaestion said then. "Or asleep if not there. Tomorrow you lead us into Chaeronea."

"I know," Alexander said in a quiet manner. That should have been what was on his mind, but it wasn't. He was sixteen and was completely infatuated with only Hephaestion at the moment. In his mind he had often thought of what Hephaestion would do, should he lean over one night as they spoke of the _Iliad_, and kiss him. In his mind Hephaestion would pull him close and whisper to him that he would always be there for him. He would never leave him.

In reality he knew that this was not what Hephaestion would likely do. Hephaestion was stronger than him it seemed. He had managed not to fall in love like all silly young boys do. He had managed to keep everything of the sort to himself, confined behind his eyes. He never even spoke of women like Cassander or Ptolemy. He spoke of no men either. Even that would have seemed better, the talking of others, than nothing. At least Alexander thought so. At least then he would know a little more about the path that Hephaestion's lusts led him. Momentarily Alexander thought that he would ask, one night long ago, but he had not found the courage.

Oh Hephaestion, how beautiful he was. There were not just his looks to consider either. Alexander had always thought him to be beautiful on the outside. His looks were undeniable. He was godly in the state of outer appearance. Yet it was not only that which Alexander had come to love. He had come to love Hephaestion for his mind, for his manner, and for even his secrets for surely he kept some from Alexander. Impossible it seemed that he could not just tell Hephaestion how he felt.

Hephaestion had always been there to listen to him. When he would rant of the things he would do as king, no matter how unimaginable they seemed, Hephaestion would listen intently to him. He would then always tell Alexander that he was Alexander, and in being Alexander, he would 'bend the fates to make it so in your favor'. He had never disbelieved, or laughed, or said anything against his plans. If anything he would agree with Alexander's insane thoughts, placing his own ideas with his. They had even drawn up battle strategies together for a battle, which Alexander himself may never fight in the future!

Alexander told him about the goings on in his personal life as well. He told him the words that his mother spoke to him. He told him what he father said to him. Both sides were completely opposite, except in the goal of claiming Alexander as their own. It was as if to them he would not be their child, but could only belong to one of them. How silly it seemed to Alexander, but Hephaestion understood it seemed the way of his parents, and often consulted him on their actions. At times he even explained things to him that Alexander did not know they had meant!

Not only did he explain things, he was right about them! It was as if he were the keeper of all the secrets in the world. He seemed to know everything in the world that there was to know, even if he had only just been asked about it. He could figure a solution to imaginary feuds that Alexander made up. He made them up indeed only to hear what Hephaestion would say. It was a game they had played long ago, when they were young children. Alexander would be a law man of sorts and tell a feud to Hephaestion, who was forced to play the king whether he was comfortable with it or not, and Hephaestion would rule in favor of one side and give his wisdoms.

How could Hephaestion, who was only a summer older than him, know so much? Alexander had always wondered it. He had found himself thinking of it once, when Olympias was telling him that he was not the son of Philip, but the son of Zeus. He wondered, if he was the son of Zeus, then whom was Hephaestion the son of? Hephaestion laughed when Alexander had told him he had decided that Hephaestion's mother was Athena, who was the goddess of wisdom. Alexander had not understood why he laughed.

Hephaestion had only said, "Alexander, if I were the son of the god then what would you be?"

"What do you mean by that," Alexander had asked, in a playful tone.

"You are higher than me Alexander, the Greatest of all men in fact. So if I were the divine son of a god, where would that put your lineage, for there is nothing holier than a god."

Alexander thought of that moment now as he looked at his wonderful Hephaestion. Hephaestion seemed uncomfortable tonight. He seemed jumpy and it wasn't only from the breaking of the lamp. It was something else. Alexander noticed this as Hephaestion tried to busy himself with shifting gestures and the checking for of slaves. He was very concerned about this lamp for absolutely no reason.

"Hephaestion," Alexander said finally, a little breathless upon just saying his name. Cerulean eyes immediately looked at him. The depth that was held there was enough to scare even the prince. "There is something I wish to talk about."

"Of course," Hephaestion said. He himself wondered if his emotion could be heard in his voice. He had been dying to listen to Alexander say anything to him. For the past three days there had been nothing but plans of war. Philip had taken much of Alexander's time and Hephaestion had spent little time with Alexander, if you could count sitting near him in a tent full of commanders time.

Hephaestion's father thought him foolish for even being on this campaign. He had sent Hephaestion to be schooled with Alexander at the palace, but not to fight in a petty war which would lead Philip nowhere. At least that was how he had put things in perspective. Hephaestion himself could not say whether or not he agreed with Philip's war against Thebes and Athens. But he knew that it was his duty to follow him to Chaeronea.

He was a page to Philip, as was Alexander. Had he never met Alexander he knew that he would likely never have decided to follow the path of Philip. He would have found something else to do with his life, something simple maybe and more peaceful, but he would have striven and tried to become the best at whatever that title would have been. Yet he had met Alexander and he had become very close to him, missing him when he was not around even though he did not know why, and had eagerly followed Alexander into this service. He figured from that moment on that he would be following Alexander from that day on.

His father had his thoughts on that too. He claimed that Hephaestion could not be a man in the shadow of another. He advised that Hephaestion should find himself before coming so involved in the prince. But Hephaestion was young and as many young children thought he knew more than his father did. Maybe he did, and maybe he didn't, but he was happy where he was. That was all that he cared about right now. If he was happy, what more was there to life?

"Would you like to go to your tent," Hephaestion asked, sensing that they would be talking for some time. Alexander had that look in his eyes that Hephaestion had well come to know. There was something urgent that needed to be discussed, but it would be somewhat intimate, and would be hard for Alexander to tell him of. Others would never know of it though. Keeping Alexander's secrets was something that Hephaestion was glad to do, as well as did very well.

"No," Alexander replied. "Yours would be better. We won't be interrupted here. Do you mind?"

Hephaestion only smiled and glanced away. He then looked back, his eyes looking through his long lashes. He had begun to feel his cheeks become hot. Hopefully they did not redden. If they did Alexander would soon find out the one secret that he had told him, and then he would never see him again. If Alexander knew how he truly felt about him he would never think of him the same again. He would hate him for as long as he lived.

Maybe being sent away would be better for the both of them though. That was how Hephaestion had thought about it when he feared Alexander knew. He never had mentioned it though. Yet Hephaestion constantly feared that Alexander knew. Sometimes it made him nervous, jumpy, and clammy when he saw Alexander with a new look in his eyes that he could not recognize. Hiding his feelings was terrible. If Alexander sent him away Hephaestion would be crushed, but at least then he would still have fond memories of Alexander, and Alexander of him. Nothing would ever be mentioned of, well, what he truly thought about the prince.

"My rooms are always opened to you, no matter where they may be," Hephaestion replied as he held open the flap of his tent. Alexander entered and Hephaestion followed. He glanced once more around for a servant. Hopefully no one would be blamed for his insecurities. He was not afraid of the dark, as Cassander often teased him, claiming he was. It was something far different. He did not like the idea of lighting the camp so that the enemy may see their going ons. But if he could not put out light to the entire camp, he would at least put out the light in front of his tent. Sometimes he wanted to put the lamp in front of Alexander's tent out too.

"Hephaestion," Alexander said as Hephaestion entered the tent. He had turned quickly and Hephaestion could only recall him being so eager once in his life to tell him something. That had been long ago though, when Alexander was younger than he was today, and far less complicated. He had only wanted to tell Hephaestion that he could come with him to Mieza, but it had been important to them as children. They were hardly ever separated.

Things had often been less complicated when they were younger. Especially before Hephaestion had begun to realize that he might be fonder of the king than he should be. There was something about those dark eyes that captivated him. He saw the dreams Alexander held there, and the rage and violence that he wanted to inflict upon those that he thought offended him, but he also saw the good that few others could claim to see. Some thought Alexander would grow to become nothing of a man or king. Hephaestion wanted to tell those idle fools to look in Alexander's eyes, and then they too would see that Alexander would become greater than they all would be, as he could see.

"What is it Alexander," Hephaestion asked. Alexander had not taken a seat. Whether or not that meant anything he did not know. Perhaps it was nothing. However, Alexander always sat when he visited him. Always, so why would tonight be any different? He felt his heart begin to beat faster. Oh gods, did Alexander know his secret? Was he here to tell him to leave his life forever and not look back?

"Ugh," Alexander said as he ran a hand through his golden hair. He was frustrated. Hephaestion wondered what would bother him so, then remembered his own secret that he held. Maybe that was it. Yet no, for Alexander would not be so frustrated if he were expelling him from his life. He would do it swiftly. This was something different.

"Alexander," Hephaestion said, concern in his voice, though he knew Alexander would not mind this. He was often concerned for Alexander's well being. "I have never seen you like this. What is it that troubles you?"

"Swear that you will not think me frivolous."

"You know that I would never."

"Hephaestion," Alexander began before his voice failed him. He paused, glanced away from Hephaestion for a moment. Then, he went for it. He said it as if there were Furies chasing him and they would catch him and send him to Hades. "I worry about tomorrow."

Hephaestion only smiled softly. It annoyed Alexander. He had just told him something that was a disgrace to his name, and all Hephaestion could do was smile at him. How could he do that! Alexander waited though, knowing that Hephaestion would never speak of this to another. But mostly, he wanted to hear what he would say, if only to hear him speak. If he called him a fool he would merely listen.

"Do you think that you are the only man that does not worry," Hephaestion asked. He laughed lightly then. "Alexander, every man worries from time to time. It is the night before a battle that will change the history of the world. Of course there are those that fear the outcome. You are not weak for it."

"How do you know that I thought I was weak?"

"I just do," Hephaestion shrugged playfully. When he wanted he could switch off all of his wisdom. In that time he would be only Hephaestion, trying to please no one, just himself. It was at times like these Alexander found himself wanting to tell him his secret the most. It was at a time like this that Alexander found himself wanting to lean over and take him in his arms, kiss him, and maybe do much more.

"That is all you have to say?"

"Sometimes I wonder if you want me to give you bad advice," Hephaestion said, this time serious. His eyes said that he was serious. "I will never agree with you though Alexander. I will never think you are weak. Stop wishing for me to agree with you, for that day will never come."

"Phae," Alexander immediately stopped his sentence. He had just said it hadn't he? He had! Phae was a name that Alexander had always called Hephaestion in his head. It was a nickname, like the one all of the boys had for Cassander, 'Love Locks' because he had kept his hair long when they were boys and no other did. Hephaestion had only begun to do so after it reached his shoulders and Alexander told him he liked it, and not to cut it.

It was a name that Alexander had never uttered though. He couldn't just begin calling Hephaestion by the name Phae. It was not like Cassander's nickname. Phae was far more, intimate. Well, only because in his mind he had made it intimate. Not to mention, it had been the name he whispered when he first found himself learning what becoming a man entitled, when he had first touched himself as all young boys learn to.

Hephaestion only smiled earnestly though. "Phae?"

"It is just a name," Alexander told him. "I just made it up the other day. Its stupid though, don't worry, I won't say it again."

"I like it," Hephaestion replied though. He wasn't lying either. There was something about it that just fit. He said it again in his mind, Phae. He liked it, the intimacy of way Alexander uttered it made the name stick though. It was as if Alexander had been saying the name all his life.

"Hephaestion," Alexander said as he took a few steps closer. Almost all of the space between them was gone. Alexander was practically close enough to touch Hephaestion now, kiss him as he desired. If Hephaestion had stepped back Alexander would have known his efforts were wasted, and he expected him to, but Hephaestion did not step back.

"I don't want you to go into battle tomorrow," Alexander finally blurted out. It wasn't his entire secret, but it was a start. He didn't want Hephaestion to go onto that field. He did not want him to even be here now. Being near him was threat enough. No one around him was safe. He did not want to risk loosing Hephaestion.

"What," Hephaestion asked. The hurt was in his voice, even though he tried to hide it. It was also in those cerulean eyes that Alexander loved so much. The prince wanted to kick himself. He had not said it right. Hephaestion didn't understand. It wasn't that he didn't _want_ him to be near, it wasn't that at all, it was that he feared for what would happen to him tomorrow. Hephaestion could fight, and very well, but this was not school anymore. This was real. If he fell tomorrow, he may never get back up.

"No, I don't mean it the way you think," Alexander hurriedly responded to the hurt in Hephaestion's features. For some reason he put a hand on Hephaestion's cheek. It was irrational to do so, not knowing how Hephaestion felt about him, but it just felt right and Alexander really didn't even know that he was doing it.

"I understand," Hephaestion assured him. He clearly didn't though. Just the way that he stared at Alexander, in pain, showed that he was confused. No, Alexander wanted to cry, for he did not understand. How could he tell him what he truly meant without giving everything away? But it spilled from his lips before he could stop the words.

"Its not that I don't want you," Alexander told him. "I do want you Hephaestion, so very much, to extents that you cannon imagine. But if you go out there you could be killed, and I would never be able to handle that. I cannot live without you Phae. These last three days have pained me more than you can know, not being able to be alone with you. Yet I have been longing to be with you for months now, and not just as a friend, but I…I love you Phae."

There was a silence. Alexander swallowed hard. He had just told Hephaestion everything. Hephaestion didn't reply. Why, why didn't he just call him disgusting and get it over with? At least he had told him. But the rejection would still burn him all the same.

"What?"

"I love you," Alexander whispered. As Hephaestion stared at him he noticed that his hand was still on his cheek. He then noticed that Hephaestion had put his hand over Alexander's wrist. He held him softly. Still, no response though. But that did not last long.

"Alexander," Hephaestion finally whispered tranquilly. If this was the start of his rejection it did not make Alexander feel unwanted. "There is something that I need to tell you too."


	2. Untold Truths Revealed

Title: "The First Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 2, "Untold Truths Revealed"

A/N: I can't keep the story out of my head. I know where this tale should lead, so I'm going for it. Please review if you get the chance and let me know how I'm doing. Enjoy!

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Alexander was so afraid of what Hephaestion would say next. What could he possibly tell him, that he knew all along? Alexander drew in a slight breath, yet realized as soon as it happened that he need not be worried about Hephaestion's response. Hephaestion leaned forward and pressed his lips against Alexander's, tilting the younger prince's head up. Hephaestion kissed him softly, and Alexander could not move at first, but then found himself kissing Hephaestion back with the same pent up passions.

It was not as he had imagined it would be. Looking at Hephaestion while they trained in the ways of combat Alexander had fantasized about what it would be like to kiss the strong Hephaestion. He'd thought that it would be rougher, unpolished perhaps, but not soft and serene like this. This was something completely different yet it was something far better than what Alexander had dreamt of. Hephaestion kissed him as if it were his last chance to do anything in his life, taking his time as he lightly explored the lips he'd longed to taste for so long. But before Alexander, and even Hephaestion, were truly done discovering the other the kiss ended. Hephaestion pulled away, and quickly stepped away from Alexander, his cheeks aflame it seemed.

"I'm sorry," Hephaestion said quickly. He was practically panting from the excursions of the kiss he'd just led. But it was not his place to have done so. Even if he were a prince, equal in status to Alexander, it would not have been his place. Something had told him to do so and perhaps it was the whispering of Aphrodite herself, but he should not have done it. What had he been thinking?

There was silence then, after the apology, which made Hephaestion want to turn away from Alexander and run. Yet his feet would not move. He could not flee from Alexander despite the fact that he would likely been whipped until his flesh fell from his bones now. However Alexander was deep in thought it seemed. He thought to himself of the kiss he had just experienced, and wondered why Hephaestion was now apologizing to him. Was it all false?

"Hephaestion," he began but the scared Hephaestion immediately interrupted him. Whether or not he meant to Alexander did not know. He just frantically said what was on his mind.

"It was not my place," Hephaestion said as he tried to busy himself by picking up the broken base of the lamp and moving it over to a chest. He opened the lid, placed the lamp inside, but never stopped speaking. "It was wrong of me, I know. Just say the word and I will return to Pella immediately."

"Hephaestion," Alexander said as he put his hand around the other's wrist, forcing him to stop his jittery movements. Hephaestion stopped immediately and turned his head. A lock of his brown hair fell over his face, shielding part of him to Alexander, but not his eyes. Those cerulean orbs whispered to Alexander, and before he spoke again he leaned close to Hephaestion.

Brushing the lock of hair away with a hand he pressed his lips to Hephaestion's. Hephaestion tried to still himself before his lips began to move in unison with Alexander's. Yet not even he could deny himself. Alexander continued to kiss him, even when he felt that he couldn't breathe. His hand moved to the back of Hephaestion's neck, and he only pulled Hephaestion closer as his fingers wrapped in the hair at the base of Hephaestion's neck.

His other hand moved unsteadily to Hephaestion's waist. He did not know if what he did was right and did not know if this was how he should be holding Hephaestion, but the other didn't know either. He kept a hand on Alexander's cheek, holding him to him as he maneuvered his lips against Alexander. Hephaestion pressed his other hand against Alexander's chest and let his fingers grip at Alexander's white chifton.

"Is this wrong," Alexander asked as he broke away, pressing his forehead against Hephaestion's. He panted far more than Hephaestion but both were equally spent. Neither of their breaths slowed as they tried to remain apart, but were still pressed together.

"Yes," Hephaestion whispered. "Its so wrong Alexander."

"I don't care," Alexander said as he pulled Hephaestion to him once more. Something so wonderful could not be wrong, no matter who declared it so. It was right. It was so right that Alexander wondered why he had not told Hephaestion of his thoughts earlier.

"Don't go tomorrow," Alexander said as his kisses moved from Hephaestion's lips to his cheek, and jaw, and then his neck. He left warm patches of moisture over Hephaestion but he did not care. Hephaestion only tried to stifle a moan as Alexander pulled him even closer to him. They were now so close that there was no space between them. "I will not allow anything to happen to you Hephaestion. Stay here, be safe. Be here when I come back."

"Alexander," Hephaestion said as he pulled Alexander away from his neck, and looked him in the eyes. He put a hand on Alexander's cheek, so that he could look at him and hold him at the same time. "I go wherever you go, remember?"

He referred to a day long past in Pella. Alexander had been fourteen and full of himself. He had even decided to leave the palace. He felt that his father wanted him only to campaign with him, or run the kingdom while he was away. His mother wanted him only to use against Philip so that she may keep her head on her shoulders. No one loved him he declared as he decided to run away. Yet Hephaestion had spotted him, knew his plan, and had begun to follow him. He never stopped following. He vowed to follow Alexander to the end of the world if that were where Alexander's feet led him.

Alexander was angry and had fired back that perhaps he would go to the end of the world. Hephaestion shrugged but continued to follow behind him. Alexander had hated him for being so stubborn. Why couldn't he just go home and act as if he had seen nothing? But after walking for hours Hephaestion had not let up, and Alexander had begun to admire his stubbornness more than despise it. It showed his character. Hephaestion Amyntor would never give up.

But that was also the day that Alexander had almost killed Hephaestion without meaning too. He had thought it wonderful to try to trek to the end of the world. He grew weary though, and as he walked he began to notice how his lips were parched. Suddenly he was beginning to think that it was a bad idea to set out with no water. Yet he could not back down because if he did, then Hephaestion would think him weak. Hephaestion never got to accuse him of being weak though.

As he continued his march to the end of the world he heard a sudden sound. Even before he turned he knew that it was a body striking the ground. Alexander spun around and looked at Hephaestion, who had fallen to the ground. It took him quite awhile to carry and drag him home. It was only when he was back at the palace of Pella that he realized how sunburned Hephaestion truly was. He saw the way his lips cracked from the lack of water, how tired he really had been before the sun had claimed him.

Never again had Alexander done anything quite so foolish. He thought that Hephaestion would be angry with him. Yet when he woke he was not. In fact, he just smiled and made Alexander make him a promise. The next time that Alexander tried to reach the end of the world there would have to be at least one horse and one satchel of water with him. Alexander agreed eagerly.

"This is different," Alexander insisted. "We aren't at Pella anymore. There are no wooden swords. Those that are tackled to the ground are armed, and you won't be rolling around in sand, and there won't be a coach to stop your opponent when he begins to hurt you too badly. Hephaestion what we are to face tomorrow is real."

"I know," Hephaestion replied. "But still I go with you Alexander. I cannot take back my vow."

"It is only a silly child's vow that I would ardently release you from Hephaestion. You do not owe me any loyalty. Please, let me find somewhere else for you to be tomorrow."

"Do not worry about what awaits us at dawn Alexander," Hephaestion insisted. He smiled softly as he traced Alexander's lower lip with his thumb. He then leaned closer and kissed the prince's forehead. "Let us worry only about tonight. Go back to your tent Alexander, and get some rest."

"Come with me. I dare not be alone tonight."

"Alexander, you know how the tongues of others are. If anyone were to find out you know what they would say."

"Aye, they would say what they say of my father and Clietus. Let them speak though Hephaestion. I do not fear whispers of young men that act more like young women. Come back with me, if only until I fall asleep."

Hephaestion looked at him, perhaps as if he were nervous about what going back to Alexander's tent would entail now that they seemed to share mutual feelings. Alexander at least feared this was what he thought of. He did not want Hephaestion to think that he would take advantage of him. He could never force him to go with him, or do anything with him that Hephaestion did not want. Yet for the first time he truly looked younger than Alexander, his eyes holding that restraint that they yearned to keep so badly.

"Phae," he said quietly. "I didn't mean that…"

"I know," Hephaestion replied. He blinked a few times before he said anything more. He also went to the flap of the tent and pulled it open. Alexander stepped out, not sure what to think. Maybe now Hephaestion's thoughts were clearer and he was rejecting him. However Hephaestion followed him out and silently followed him back to Alexander's tent, which was far more luxurious compared to his own.

Alexander watched as Hephaestion paused before he entered. If Hephaestion had one superstition it would be that he hated the lamps that lit the world in the night. Especially those on the eve of battle. Alexander nodded an understanding and Hephaestion took the lamp from the pole it hung upon. Hephaestion noted that it was much lower and felt like laughing as he blew out the flame. He then hung the lamp back up.

"Why do you do that," Alexander asked as they entered the tent. After what they had shared earlier he figured he could now ask. Hephaestion smiled a little, but it wasn't his normal smile. It was his smile of embarrassment.

"I don't like the idea that they can see us," he answered.

"The Thebans, or their assassins, or really anyone that is around. The lamps are like the stars. They lead men to our camp. It's more of a superstition now than anything I suppose."

"No," Alexander disagreed. "It makes plenty of sense. I don't see why others have not thought of it. I never have."

Hephaestion went to Alexander's bed as he always did when he was in his room. It was nothing new to watch him crawl onto the bed and lift the pillow. As soon as he found the worn copy of the _Iliad_ he crossed his legs and glanced up from the bed at Alexander. Alexander poured himself a glass of water, and then one for Hephaestion, and handed it to him carefully. Hephaestion took it and did as he always did since a guard had been poisoned in Pella.

He first smelled the water, even though he tried to make it look very natural to put the cup under his nose. He then dipped a finger in the water and waited for a drip to fall from his finger back into the cup. After that he took another drop and tasted it. After all of this he decided that the water was not poisoned. Alexander watched this, already drinking from his own cup, and tried to hold back a laugh.

"What," Hephaestion asked as he found where they had last left off on the parchment. He knew what Alexander was laughing at. But so far Hephaestion had never been poisoned so all of his work had to be worth something. Then again, Alexander had never been poisoned either.

"My mother is not here," Alexander said as he crawled across the bed and sat down next to Hephaestion. It was in fact his mother that had killed the guard. She had openly told him but denied it to everyone else. He was there when she denied it to Philip, who had more of a 'personal' relationship with the guard.

As soon as his father left, confident that she had not been wise enough to concoct the poisonous mixture used, Olympias had turned to Alexander and told him that it had been her. She even told him how she did it. He asked why she'd not been honest if she did not fear Philip like she claimed. She had smiled, that evil smirk of hers really, and told him that she had just taught him a lesson in lying. She assured him that one day he would have to lie to at least one person for the better of a thousand others. He still didn't believe that.

"I know," Hephaestion replied. "You should be more careful though. Never trust anyone around you."

"Am I to trust you?"

Hephaestion glanced over at him. He worried at first about the meaning of that line. Yet he could see clearly that Alexander had meant it as a joke. He meant nothing else by it. Hephaestion shrugged then.

"That is up to you."

Hephaestion then began to read. He read the story of Achilles for some time. All the while Alexander watched him and listened to the melodic rhythms of Hephaestion's voice. When he came to the end of a passage Alexander found himself whispering something else, as he was being claimed by sleep.

"I do trust you," Alexander said just before he fell asleep. Hephaestion watched him sleep for a moment. He even reached out and boldly brushed a lock of Alexander's golden blond hair away from his cheek. Silently he put Alexander's copy of the _Iliad_ under his other pillow and then stood, leaving the tent quietly. He went back to his own where he tried to sleep. However, he found himself only able to think of Alexander's lips pressed against his.


	3. Before Battle

Title: "The First Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 3, "Before Battle"

A/N: This chapter takes place just before the battle in which Alexander first shows his military expertise. Yet he is also torn between sending his friend Hephaestion onto the field with him. For all historians like me out there, this battle takes place in Boeotia, August 338 BC. There are 35,000 troops from Boeotia, Athens, Megara, Cornith, and Achaea facing the fewer numbers of Macedonia and her allies. Alexander is in charge of the Companion Cavalry, and is currently camped near the river Cephissus. –Thanks for the review Queen, I am going to work this out and it may end up longer, like my other favorite stories. Also, thank you Mel for your input. I'll try to work on it. I give a shout out to the others that have reviewed. Thanks so much! To everyone else -Enjoy!

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Alexander reached out with a hand, hoping to touch something other than the sheets of his bed. Yet that is what he touched, not the hardened muscular flesh of Hephaestion's chest. The prince pushed himself up on his elbows and looked around the tent. Hephaestion had clearly left in the night. Sighing, Alexander ran a hand through his blond hair and forced himself out of bed. The sun was just rising outside of the tent, but he knew that he should already be up and getting ready. He could hear others doing so on all sides of the camp.

He dressed quickly in his best armor. He even picked up the helmet that he had thought would make him look prouder than any man on the field. The plume was white, which would stand out. However Hephaestion's words seemed to drift back to him from last night with the lamp. Maybe it was better for him not to be seen on the battlefield. Yet he knew that if he did not wear a helmet Hephaestion would give his own to him, and he did not want that.

Alexander left the tent, dressed in his best. He smiled when he saw a slave walking around collecting lamps. His own was out, as it had been all night, and the slave would not know that it had been put out. The slave did on the other hand seem to know that Hephaestion's lamp was missing. However he could not fight with him, for Hephaestion was missing as well Alexander learned when he entered the other's tent.

The prince left quickly and made his way around the camp. He saw many men that he knew but stopped to speak of none of them. Most were busy getting ready for the approaching battle anyway. Yet Cassander did look up as his prince was passing by. He was not like the other men. He did decide to speak with Alexander.

"Are you ready," asked Cassander with a hint of teasing in his voice. Alexander knew that he could not possibly know his secret fears. It was just the personality trait which Cassander carried heavy in his veins that made him a pain at times. It was, after all, genetic. His father was no better at times.

"Of course," Alexander replied cockily. "But tell me, have you seen Hephaestion?"

"Hephaestion, why would you need to see him? Let me tell you though," Cassander laughed, "the boy is probably hiding over by the river. I saw him venture over there earlier. I think he is going to hide from the battle. Would you mind it if he did Alexander?"

"Yes," Alexander said even though he truly would not. If he could get Hephaestion to stay behind he would. However he would have to make sure his honor was not taken from him. Perhaps he could send him on some far off mission back to Pella. Then, by the time this fight was over, he could meet him on the road back. Yet Hephaestion would not willingly go along with such a plan and it was too late for that.

"Good then, he's by the river. Have him whipped."

"Cassander," Alexander said with a sigh, "you should watch your tongue at times. Some day I will have power and you will anger me."

"You have power now," Cassander said with a smirk. "At least say that you will possibly sternly reprimand him."

Alexander merely nodded. He then left and made his way toward the river Cephissus. He took an already well-treaded path, knowing that he would find Hephaestion close to the river. He and Hephaestion had already ventured to the river many times before. Without looking very hard he spotted Hephaestion, sitting on a fallen over tree and tossing small stones into the river. It would look calm to those that did not know him. But Alexander knew that this was Hephaestion being rather nervous.

Alexander approached further. He thought that perhaps he would be quiet enough not to startle Hephaestion. However Hephaestion tossed a small stone over his shoulder and hit Alexander perfectly in the center of the chest. It caused Alexander to stop, and he knelt down and picked the stone back up.

"I don't think I will ever be silent enough to startle you," Alexander said as he came closer and took a seat next to Hephaestion. He tossed the rock in his hand into the river, watching the ripples that this force made. He then glanced over at Hephaestion. He noted that his eyes were even clearer than this river.

"Are you still worried," Hephaestion asked as he handed Alexander another stone, tossing his own. He asked, but Alexander knew that Hephaestion was not beginning to get nerves. It actually made him feel normal. Hephaestion rarely ever looked at a situation and felt nervous, so if he did now, it was fine for Alexander to feel completely petrified.

"Undoubtedly," Alexander answered. "What about you?"

"I worry only for you."

Alexander put an arm around Hephaestion, but noticed that the gesture had changed. When they were just friends, it was merely being friends. But now it was something else. It was more intimate and more suggestive. Alexander found himself wondering about last night. Was it something that would stay in that tent or could they be together as they had been, more than friends, for the rest of their lives?

To test this Alexander put a hand on Hephaestion's cheek and he turned his face toward him. Hephaestion looked at him for a moment before Alexander leaned down and placed his lips to Hephaestion's. He kissed him softly, letting his lips fall into a soft pattern of tender pulling on his lower lip and brushing against the top. Hephaestion went along with the kiss for a moment before he pulled away at the sound of a neighing horse.

"Alexander," he began but was cut off.

"Just tell me if you want me to stop thinking of you in such a way," Alexander told him immediately. He was clearly worried about Hephaestion's thoughts about this kiss. He faced rejection now, so rather than be driven away from Hephaestion, he wanted to tell him things could be as they had been. They could be friends if that be Hephaestion's wish for them. "Tell me and I promise I will stop Phae. Just say the word."

"No," Hephaestion told him with a soft hinting laugh. "I was only going to say that you should not kiss me in public."

"Oh, you're right. Is it that wrong though?"

"It depends," Hephaestion said, the wisdom of that extra year back in his voice. "It is one thing for a king, or a prince, to be with other men on long campaigns. But it is another thing for you to be with me, when we are not really on campaign. Others will frown on it now. Even later, if it were to be with me and we were thirty, it would still be wrong. I'm not in your league Alexander."

"You too are Alexander," the younger of the two told him. He did not know that this phrase would forever be between the two of them. It was something that he had just said, but he knew that he meant it. He could feel it. "We are the same, neither of us better than the other."

"I don't think your father would like that comment."

"Let my father think what he wants," Alexander replied. "But we are one, and always shall be Hephaestion. Its like, you and I are meant to be. The Fates, maybe even Aphrodite herself, has brought you to me –or I to you."

Hephaestion smiled the blushing and embarrassed smile that Alexander was growing used to now. It was as if he had changed now that they had revealed their secret to one another. The thought made Alexander smile, for it had been one secret. Hephaestion still seemed not to be able to form the words he wanted to. He glanced over at Alexander with a smile, and then just laughed.

"Let's go," Hephaestion said as he stood. He put his hand down to help Alexander up. The younger prince took it gratefully and then stood. Before leaving, he pressed one more kiss to Hephaestion's lips. Hephaestion, despite his worry of what others would think were they to see, gently kissed Alexander back. There was nothing that he could deny Alexander, and he couldn't deny himself for the most part.

Both knew that once they left this clearing things must change between them. Alexander would become the prince once more, and one that would be preparing to take them into battle against the Thebans and Boeotians. They would have to separate their feelings from the battle though. It would be hard for the both of them. Neither wanted the other on that field, and both silently vowed to themselves that they would protect the other.


	4. Preparing the Companions

Title: "The First Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 4, "Preparing the Companions"

A/N: Thanks for reviewing, for those that have. For those that are reading thank you too! Here is the beginning of the battle that some are looking forward too.

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Alexander looked that the men that stood around him. All were dressed in their best armor. It was hard to look at them now. Alexander knew that not all of these men would come back. That would be impossible, or so teachers had always told him. It was hard, for he knew each and every one of these men. He knew their names, their families perhaps, and even their dreams of life. How could he look at each and every one of these men, and assure them that things would be fine? How could he send some of them out to meet their deaths?

His eyes then caught the sight of Hephaestion in the crowd. He stood farther back with Cassander and Ptolemy. Cassander had the same cocky arrogance that he always had. Alexander doubted that he feared this battle in the least. Even Ptolemy seemed to be ready to face the battle, whether or not he would meet his death. As Alexander looked at all of the men he noticed that even Hephaestion was hiding his true feelings.

He stood, looking as fearless as those did around him. He even glanced over at Cassander as the two of them shared a private joke. Alexander gazed around the rest of the men for a moment. Then he cleared this throat and began to speak. He'd not planned it, for he knew that preparing the words would not be fair to those that he spoke to. The words just seemed to flow from over his tongue.

"Today," Alexander said so that all could hear, "we face battle. Many of you have never seen a battle that was not staged in an arena. I myself have never been in a battle like the one that we face today. I look into your eyes, and I see no fear. Either you have none or you hide it well."

He glanced at Hephaestion. Without realizing he had done so the beauty glanced down at the ground. He then looked up, meeting Alexander's gaze with his cerulean eyes. He tilted his head and lightly bit his lower lip. This was meant for only Alexander, it was Hephaestion telling him with only his eyes that he worried for him. Alexander only could manage a soft grin before he turned back to his speech.

"Show your enemy no fear and we will be undefeatable. We will make these Boeotians turn and run in our presence," he said. There was a sudden uproar from the men. Alexander even heard Cassander's distinct whistle. Alexander knew that this was enough. They didn't need fancy words. These men only needed a leader that they could believe in. Alexander would be this leader. He would ride with them, fight with them, and if the Fates willed it he would die with them.

Alexander stepped down from the slightly elevated platform he had been on. He then walked over to the groom that was holding Bucephalus. He mounted the horse, holding the reins tight in his hand, and then pulled the stallion around to face his men. Cassander picked up his helmet, which distinguished him as a general, and put it on. So did the rest of the commanders that would be helping lead the Companions. Alexander only had eyes for one general though.

Hephaestion mounted his own horse, holding the reins looser in his hands. He was still trying to keep his worry hidden from the rest of the world. He wasn't worried for himself though, he was worried for Alexander. He always had been worried for him. Now, after knowing that perhaps he and Alexander could be as he wanted them to be, he was no less worried about him. He was in fact more worried.

Alexander turned Bucephalus and set out with his group of men. There was only enough room from their area for one legion to leave at a time. Alexander turned before he was out of view and gave a series of hand signals. Cassander would lead his men out next and take the right. He then gave the order for Hephaestion to take his men to the left. The last thing Alexander did was tell the left and right generals to decide where to put the men that would follow them. Hephaestion glanced over his shoulder at the lesser commanders that were under his guard.

Cassander gave a series of signals to his men before he began to ride out. Hephaestion waited for a moment and thought about which men and legion he would place where. He looked not only at the commander as Cassander had. He looked at the foot soldiers. Upon looking at the men in one legion he decided they would be the left, for a few of the soldiers in the front line favored their right in the military games Alexander's tutor had set for them. Then he decided upon a left, and then upon a middle group which would be directly behind him. Only after this elaborate planning did he begin out.

By the time he moved his regiment to the left of Alexander's there was already a battle going on in the flattened battlefield. Hephaestion glanced behind him to make sure that his men were in place, and those behind them. He then turned and looked over to where Alexander was. He sat upon Bucephalus, freely letting the stead pace back and forth as Alexander looked at the ranks. When everyone was in place he turned Bucephalus to face the field and ordered him to stand still.

Hephaestion looked out at the field, his blue eyes taking ever scene that he could in. The August sun glared down upon the field, and the shining armor that Hephaestion could see seemed to sparkle. Even the blood glimmered in this light he feared. It was strange to him that even in a time of war there was something that he could call beautiful. His own horse, upon hearing a loud crashing of a chariot, took a few steps forward. Many of the horses began to move at the sudden sound. They were virgins to battles just like most of the men.

"Easy," Hephaestion said as he leaned forward and put a hand on his stallion's neck. The horse was hot even though he had not yet done much. Hephaestion patted him softly, calming the horse, and whispered the same word into his ears. The horse twitched his ears back, listening to his master, and began to still. When Hephaestion leaned back the horse moved no more.

Alexander let Bucephalus prance in place though. The stallion seemed to have come from Hades himself at this time. If fire could have come from his nose it would have. His nostrils flared as he breathed heavily, anxious to charge into the battle. In many senses his was just like the man that sat upon him.

Alexander did not mind the movement though. He was concentrating upon what his father's battalion was doing. They seemed to be fighting hard, but the Boeotians had not yet given up. They had shifted their ranks but still were prepared to fight Philip and all of Macedonia if that were what it would take. Alexander tightened his grip on Bucephalus' reins and the horse began to still. He still made much noise though, blowing hot air out of his nostrils while he pawed at the ground.

The prince continued to stare at the battle. He knew that taking his men into the battle just now would do nothing. A moment would come, and when it did, they would charge. He waited for only a few more minutes until he saw it. Philip's men had begun to make a breach in the opposing phalanx but they would not be able to hold it for long. Yet the opportunity was enough for Alexander. He watched as a group of three hundred Thebans broke away from the phalanx and began to fight with Philip's men, of which there were only about a hundred and fifty, if that.

"Listen," Alexander cried out as he brought Bucephalus out of the line. He looked to his commanders, who had also brought their horses out of the line. Cassander's horse was just as eager as Bucephalus, but when Alexander glanced at Hephaestion, he had to smile. His horse was just as calm as Hephaestion appeared to be.

"Cassander," Alexander called out and instantly everyone was listening. Even the horses quieted. "Take your men around the right where there is already a path. Hephaestion, take the left. We will wrap around, I taking the front."

Both commanders nodded and turned to give orders to their men. It did not take long though before Alexander knew they were ready. He took his sword and raised it in the air. Then, with the slight movement of his wrist, he ordered everyone forward. He let go of Bucephalus' reins and let the stallion burst into a full gallop. As he ran out, his men following, he glanced over to his left for just a moment. In that moment he saw Hephaestion looking back at him as well.


	5. The Battle

Title: "The First Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 5, "The Battle"

A/N: Again, thanks for the support. Enjoy, this chapter takes place from where chapter four left off really.

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Alexander took his men straight into the three hundred Thebans. Those on horses were the first to encounter the real problems. The Thebans showed no mercy and had no problems cutting the legs right out from under the horses. The Thebans on horses would also fight with those upon horses. It was not easy to kill those beneath you when you were being attacked from above as well.

At first he had no time to see what others were doing. He had time only to try to cut down those that approached to closely to Bucephalus. The first man to put so much as a scratch on his horse would be skinned alive. Yet Bucephalus fought just as well as Alexander. He even reared up and struck two men in front of him as they raised their swords.

Alexander held Bucephalus' mane as the horse did this. It still caused him to loose his balance. In doing so he dropped his sword. The only way to get it would be to get off. So that is what the prince did. He slid from Bucephalus and grabbed the hilt of the sword in his hand. Just as he was standing the light caught the silver of a curved blade that was flying through the air at him. Alexander raised his own sword just in time, the two blades crashed together with a clang, and Alexander finished rising.

Only then did he manage to get a glimpse at the carnage around him. Men were being cut as they fell to the ground. A man screamed as his stomach was cut through as if it were just butter. His guts spilled from his body before he hit the ground. Alexander knew that he was now fighting for his life. He pulled his sword back, as did his Theban opponent, and took a step back. Then, he raised the blade and charged forward. The suddenness of his attack caught the Theban off guard and Alexander was able to swing the blade in such a motion that it cut the man across the neck.

Blood sprayed at the main artery was cut. The spray hit Alexander in the face, creating a line of crimson across his face. Alexander watched the man fall. He knew that many others would meet their death like this. It did not matter though, as long as it was not he or Hephaestion. He froze at the thought. For the first time he had a minute to think. Where was Hephaestion?

Before he could look he was again attacked. This time the battle lasted a little longer. He even had to step back a few more paces as the attacker advanced. Alexander glanced behind him as he stepped on the hand of a man already long dead. There was a decorative dagger in the sand just next to the dead hand. Alexander slammed his sword against his attackers and then suddenly dropped to the ground. He wrapped his hand around the dagger.

Thinking he had fallen his attacker came nearer. But Alexander was only tricking him. Cassander had done this more than enough times to him to know that it would work. He suddenly leapt up, with the dagger firm in his grasp, and punched the Theban hard in the shoulder. The blade in his hand slid deep into the muscle of the shoulder and the man cried out as blood poured from the wound. Alexander then pulled his sword back and swung it wildly. The man's head flew from his shoulder and Alexander let out a scream.

Many said that he had the rage of his father. But when Cassander looked over and saw this he knew that they were wrong. He was far worse than his father could ever be. Cassander went on with his own fight, having no more time to think about it. But he could see that the numbers of the Thebans were falling.

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Hephaestion tried to pull his horse back before the blade struck the animal in the front left leg. The horse screamed out in pain and made a sudden turn. The blade was still stuck though, and in turning the horse managed only to fracture the bone. Hephaestion continued to hold the reins in one hand and his sword in the other as the horse fell to the ground, landing hard on its side. In landing on its side Hephaestion's left leg was pinned beneath the sand. Had it not been for the sand and the body beneath him he knew that his leg would be broken.

Hephaestion tried to pull at his leg as the horse continued to thrash. It cried out in pain as blood poured from his leg. Hephaestion heard the screams of other horses and of men all around him. As he pulled at his leg again he wished that the noise would cease. The horse tried to get up, and as it tried to raise itself Hephaestion bent his knee and pulled himself back before the horse hit the ground again. Still clutching the sword the general pushed himself off of the ground.

He tried to place weight back on his leg but it burned. He glanced down, seeing the red angry flesh. Nothing was broken but he knew that there would be a large bruise by the end of this battle that would last for weeks. But he did not have time to find a way to place more weight on his leg. A Theban who had already lost his sword immediately knocked him down.

When he hid the ground he let out an _oof_ as the air in his lungs was pushed out of him. Hephaestion also had let go of the sword that was in his hand. The impact had caused his hand to loose its grip. Hephaestion kneed the man that had knocked him down and grabbed him by both shoulders. He threw the man from him, but as the man fell to his right he grabbed a handful of Hephaestion's hair in his fist.

Hephaestion felt his head jerk as the man pulled him. The general then felt a fist hit him hard on the cheek. Hephaestion could fight this way though. It was not that hard. He took an elbow and jammed it into the Theban's neck. The Theban gasped but before he could breathe in again Hephaestion repeated the motion. He then grabbed a bloodied sword from the ground and took it in his hands. With a quick motion he sunk the blade into the man's stomach.

The Theban tried to grab the sword, but as Hephaestion stood he forced the blade further into his chest. Whether or not he was alive when he walked away Hephaestion did not know. It did not matter though. He reached down and took one of the curved Theban blades that lay on the ground. It would be easier to wield this weapon in this battle.

Hephaestion then put himself in the center of a large fight already taking place. A group of Boeotians was attacking two men from Philip's army. The two were fighting but Hephaestion knew that they had no chance. Hephaestion swung the curved blade wide and stuck a man in the back. He fell screaming to the ground, the scream alerting those around him. A few others turned and raised their own arms and came at Hephaestion.

There was not time to be scared though. Hephaestion just sliced through another Boeotian. But before he knew it there was a Theban behind him with a dagger. As the man before him attacked, the one behind care around and slid the sharpened blade over Hephaestion's already injured thigh. Hephaestion brought his elbow up in time to hit the Theban in the jaw. It caused him to fall but he was quickly scrambling back to his feet.

The Boeotian before him was able to knock the blade from Hephaestion with a steady thrust. The clanging was loud, but the impact caused Hephaestion to drop the blade. At the same time the Theban was up, with a handful of sand. As Hephaestion began to turn to face the other the Theban threw the sand directly into his eyes. Hephaestion could only step back and swipe wildly at his eyes. As he did he tripped on a body and fell back.

Hephaestion continued to wipe at his eyes but it seemed he was only making it worse. It burned. His leg burned but in a different way. But he heard the Theban with the sword approaching. Hephaestion knew that he needed to get out of the way before the blade caught him. He looked up and used a hand to block the sun from his eyes. He was waiting for the Theban to raise the sword before he tried to move, but he was beginning to see that there was nowhere else to go.

Just as the Theban raised the blade over his head the sound of a deep horn could be heard. Hephaestion, his hand still blocking the sun, watched as the Theban stopped. For a second their eyes met, the sea with the mountain soil, and the Theban then lowered his sword. He then turned on his heel and began to flee with those around him. Hephaestion turned his head, the sun still blinding his already watering eyes, and watched as the retreat began. The Thebans had lowered their blades but as they ran they still had to face the blades of the Companions.

Hephaestion tried to sit fully up, but it hurt terribly. Nevertheless he looked down at his leg. Already he could see a dark purple surrounding the cut on his leg. The cut was rather deep, the skin torn far apart, and was bleeding heavily. Hephaestion went to put his hand on it but as he raised his hand sand fell into the wound. The warm sand made the wound burn even more. In fact, it burned until Hephaestion's head fell back with the rest of his body.

He lay back, his back against the body of a dead man from Philip's army, and put a hand up to shield his eyes. The pain was gripping at him though and he had to grit his teeth and cry out. He could hear his heartbeat it seemed. He felt himself growing weak then. Suddenly his hand fell even though he had not willed it to and he began to slip into darkness. His eyes slowly closed before he could do anything about it. He lay amongst a group of the dead, and for someone passing by, he looked like he could be one of them.

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Alexander continued his search. The dead were vast and there were many wounded. Already he watched as men were helping the injured onto carts that would take them back to camp. Philip planned to take his men further and beat down the remaining forces. Yet he had sent word to Alexander, telling him to stay at camp, and watch the wounded. He would send for him if needed, so the Companions should still be ready.

Alexander thought not about that though. He thought only about Hephaestion. He could find him nowhere and no one was able to tell him where they had seen him last. Alexander stopped when he saw Cassander, who was searching for something too it seemed, or someone. He held a sword in his hand and raised it, the blade pointing down. He only glanced up when he saw Alexander.

The prince looked down at the last remaining thrashing horse. He recognized the stallion immediately. It was Hephaestion's bay stead. It was on its side thrashing, its leg clearly broken beyond repair. Even if it could be repaired they did not have the necessary supplies or time to bother with the men that would need tending to. Alexander watched as Cassander firmly drove the blade into side of the horse's head. The horse immediately stopped moving.

Alexander immediately began to look around. How far could Hephaestion have gotten without his horse? He felt tears coming to his eyes as he began looking again for Hephaestion. The screams of the men around him only made things worse. Alexander stepped carefully over the bodies of many Thebans but still could not see Hephaestion, yet he would not keep looking. He knew he was somewhere. Perhaps he had already begun taking his men back to the camp. That sounded like something Phae would do. But why had Alexander not seen him, or for the matter why had no one else?

As Alexander stepped over another body the sun reflected on a blade. The light blinded Alexander and he misplaced his foot and fell to the ground. He raised a hand and then stood, looking for where the shining light was coming. As he looked around he saw a blade sticking out of the ground. The bright silver hilt was making the reflection. The prince began to search around the blade, and then saw something.

He began to run when he saw the strands of brown hair. He knew that it was Hephaestion's. But he also knew that there was a vast amount of bodies in the far off area. Alexander ran, leaping over bodies even, until he reached the pile of dead bodies. As he stumbled over a Theban body and into the pile he confirmed that it was his Hephaestion.

Hephaestion lay against a dead Macedonian, his eyes closed but tears streaming his face. Alexander fell down next to him and pulled his head onto his lap. He put a hand over his neck and felt a heartbeat. He was alive! Alexander looked over his body, seeing the beating that it had taken. First he saw the bruise on his cheek and the cut, which could have been made by a Theban ring. They wore rings to battle thinking they could punch an enemy and wound them badly. It obviously worked, Alexander admitted.

He then saw his left leg. There was a deep wound caused by a sharp blade on his thigh. The flesh around the cut was already a dark menacing purple. The rest of his thigh was bruised as well, a dark blue hue, and in some areas it was a gross green color. His lower leg seemed to be lightly bruised as well. But his thigh was clearly the worst of the wounds. Examining the rest of his body he saw a cut on Hephaestion's right arm, high above his elbow. It had stopped bleeding though and was nothing that could not be easily healed.

Alexander put a hand on Hephaestion's shoulder and shook him yet he did not awaken. He didn't even moan. Alexander sat, just staring and not knowing what to do, until he heard the sound of another approaching. He looked up and recognized the boy as a page. The boy clearly was amazed at the carnage of the battle. He just looked at the prince, as confused as everyone else.

"Get a medic," Alexander ordered harshly.

"Sir," the boy began. He was going to tell Alexander that the medics were busy. They had been trying to work with the wounded men on the field. Yet the heat had been a problem and they had mostly gone back to the camp. The few that remained were dealing with others and did not want to be disturbed. Alexander knew this but did not care. He knew Hephaestion needed help, and now. He also knew how hard it would be to try to move him across the field of dead bodies that surrounded them.

"Get a medic," Alexander yelled this time. "Tell them Prince Alexander requested it and if they don't come I will have their head!"

"A medic," the boy repeated.

"Yes, the first one you see," Alexander shouted. He watched as the page ran off as fast as he could. He hoped the boy would be quick about it. His wits were gone from his head like so many other young pages that knew not what to do now. Some had lost masters and would definitely be lost for the rest of the day. But that did not concern him. He only looked back down at Hephaestion.

He kissed Hephaestion's forehead, not caring if anyone saw. He did not even do it because he loved him. He did it because he hoped that it would cause him to awaken. It may pull him from his sleep. But it did not. Hephaestion remained lifeless in his arms. After some time the boy returned with a medic though. The old man was clearly not happy about the long venture he had to take, but because Alexander had threatened his life, he managed to get there quickly.

"My prince," the medic said as he came to his knees amongst the body as well. He looked at Hephaestion and thought the same thing that the page had told him. The general looked rather dead. But the medic knew better when he saw more blood slide from the cut on the man's leg and drip to the sand. "We must get him back to camp. This wound must be closed."

"How," asked Alexander, his mind thinking but with no results. He glanced around. The bodies all around them seemed endless. Even though Hephaestion appeared lithe, he was mostly muscle, and carrying him would be hard. It was hard enough for a single man to get over the bodies.

The medic had an answer though. He pressed his hand down against the bleeding thigh. At first there was no response. The medic had only to push a little harder. Then Hephaestion's leg twitched and he began to awaken. He thrashed at Alexander as he awoke, not knowing who held him. As his eyes opened he calmed, knowing it was only Alexander, but his eyes were still blurred and burned with sand.

"Water," Alexander said as he turned to the page. The page gladly handed him his own medium sized leather water container. Alexander uncapped the thing and then looked back at Hephaestion. "Open your eyes."

Hephaestion did as he was told. It burned though. Yet he did not see the water as it began to fall into his eyes. As soon as it did he felt like he was drowning. Alexander poured enough water upon his face it seemed to give the entire army a drink. Hephaestion coughed as Alexander wiped some of the water away from his face. Alexander then put the water to his lips and told him to drink. Hephaestion did even though he didn't feel like it. It soothed his dry throat though so he did not complain.

"He must get up," the medic said as he stood.

"Hephaestion," Alexander softly spoke, knowing by the general's grimace that he had a headache. "I'm going to help you up alright? We have to get you where a cart can get you back to camp."

"Is it bad," Hephaestion asked as he raised his head and looked down at his leg. Alexander put a hand on his forehead. Just as he had thought, he already was becoming feverish.

"No," the medic assured him as Alexander began to pull Hephaestion up with him. "Just a bad cut. You will need some stitches but it's not bad. You have faired better than many. See the dead around you?"

Alexander made sure that Hephaestion leaned against him. He put one arm around Hephaestion's waist to steady him. The other he used to cling to Hephaestion's upper arm. Alexander then put one of Hephaestion's arms over his shoulder. Even standing seemed to wear Hephaestion out and with the first step he took blood squirted from his thigh. The blood shot out in front of him about a foot before it hit the sand.

"Don't stand on it," the medic said. "Use only the other leg. Here, here, let me help you. They never train this part do they?"

Alexander ignored the medic as he mumbled. He was only concerned with getting Hephaestion back to the camp. As they trudged through the bodies Hephaestion moaned every time his leg hit something. He tried not to, but even Hephaestion could feel pain. When he moaned Alexander gritted his teeth, knowing that he could do nothing to soothe the pain. If he could he would take it from him and inflict the wound upon himself.

"Alexander," Cassander called out when they were neared to the rest. He walked quickly over, relieving the medic of his struggle, and held Hephaestion on the other side. He had no soothing words, but instead had jabs. "I told you we should have left him. How does it feel Hephaestion? Hurt much?"

"Just get me a cart," Alexander ordered.

"Already coming."

The cart pulled up and Alexander carefully sat Hephaestion down. Hephaestion was clearly spent. He was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open. His leg also continued to slowly bleed. Cassander and Alexander pulled him further back into the cart. Alexander then ordered the medic to get in as well. As soon as the medic was in the cart was off. Alexander watched with Cassander for a moment.

"Be careful Alexander," Cassander warned. "Come may begin to think that you care too much for one general."

Alexander glanced over at Cassander. The man only raised an eyebrow as if he knew everything and walked away with a simple shrug. Alexander looked back to the cart and waited for the page to bring him Bucephalus. He did not care if others knew. It did not even enter his mind. The only thing he cared about at the moment was Hephaestion. As he leapt upon Bucephalus' back he let the stallion take off in a full run. Cassander only watched as the prince rode off, a smirk plastered upon his face.


	6. Battle Wounds

Title: "The First Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 6, "Battle Wounds"

A/N: If you feel bad for Hephaestion, don't worry. We all know that he can't die here. So keep reading and enjoy. By the way, it's really sad that I can't upload this today, but I will do so immediately tomorrow.

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Hephaestion lay back and tried to calm his breathing. It didn't seem to work though and a young understudy to the medic tried to hand him another goblet of wine. Weakly Hephaestion swatted the offer away as he had done three times before. He wasn't thirsty and he didn't want to drink. He just wanted to go back to sleep. But before he could the medic stuck another needle into his leg. Hephaestion screamed loudly and arched his back. Again he tried to sit up but the pain blinded him and the understudy pushed him back down.

There was nothing else for a few moments. Hephaestion wondered why the medic had not continued. Perhaps he had given up on him, for if Hephaestion were trying to give himself stitches in this situation, he'd give up quickly too. Hephaestion turned his head, grinding his teeth, and glanced at the understudy. The understudy had looked away for a moment, at someone entering the tent, but then had looked down to the ground. It could only mean one thing.

"How is he," Alexander asked the medic quietly. He did not look at the elder man but continued to stare at Hephaestion. Blood covered his leg now, and was dripping down onto the sheets of the table. Some blood had even soaked through and was dripping onto the sand.

"It would be better if we could relax him," the medic spoke in the same quiet tone, so as that Hephaestion would not hear. The medic did not know on the other hand that Alexander was not just here because Hephaestion was now considered a prized general. He knew nothing of Alexander's true intent. "He refuses the wine my lord."

Alexander nodded and approached Hephaestion. The understudy stepped back, handing Alexander the goblet that he requested. Alexander brushed wet hair away from Hephaestion's face. Hephaestion had relaxed only a little, but still was clearly in pain. Alexander put a hand on his forehead. The fever was beginning to worsen from his wounds and useless struggle against the medic. The prince raised the goblet so that Hephaestion may see it.

"It will calm you," Alexander said. He went to put the goblet to Hephaestion's lips but Hephaestion turned his head. Even in this movement he let out a soft cry. Alexander pulled his hand back and took the other, placing his hand on Hephaestion's cheek, and turned his face back to face him.

He said nothing as he raised the goblet to his nose. He inhaled deeply, exaggerating just to make sure that Hephaestion got the point. He then wiped a finger on a clean rag lying on a side table before dipping his finger in the wine. He waited for a drop to hit the ground. Next he took another drop and put it to his lips. Hephaestion watched as Alexander took a sip from the goblet.

Alexander then put the goblet against Hephaestion's lips once more. Hephaestion began to drink then, draining the cup rather quickly. Alexander took the drained goblet and handed it to the understudy behind him. The understudy appeared not to understand and Alexander had not the time to explain. Instead he gave a simple answer.

"He's superstitious," Alexander told him before turning back to Hephaestion. He color was draining from his face and he clenched his jaw again as the medic merely put a hand on his leg. Alexander turned back to the understudy, and then decided he would be needed soon. He looked the other direction and caught sight of a wandering scribe.

"You," he called out to the boy, "come here. Go find me a pitcher of wine. Get it from wherever you can. Tell anyone that tries to stop you that Alexander asked for it." He took a crest that hung from around his neck. "Show them that if they say anything else. But hurry back."

Hephaestion cried out again as the medic began his work. He had gone back to cleaning the wound, washing it with waters, various cleaning solutions, and alcohol. Alexander knew very well that most of them would burn. But he knew from the sand bits that were still being flushed out that it needed to be done. Hephaestion cried out again and tried to rise as the medic poured the last liquid into the wound but Alexander held him down.

The medic was beginning to stitch again before the scribe returned with the pitcher of wine. Alexander had the boy pour a glass and bring it forth. Alexander checked the wine again before practically pouring it down Hephaestion's throat. He looked again at Hephaestion's leg. The medic was already about finished. But the bruised flesh would next needed to be looked at, and his fever would have to be monitored as well.

"Almost done," Alexander told Hephaestion as he held him down before he tried to get up again. He then brushed more of his soaked hair out of his face. It took everything in him to refrain from putting his lips to Hephaestion's. There was something about him at this very moment that made Alexander want to be with him now more than perhaps ever. He wanted to comfort him.

"He is likely to go into blackness when we reach the end," the medic assured Alexander. As promised, when the medic finished the last stitch Hephaestion closed his eyes. He'd been trying to for some time but Alexander had kept speaking to him, telling him random things, just to make sure that he did not fall into blackness too soon. Alexander glanced back at the medic.

"He will have some trouble walking for the next week or so," the medic said as he looked over the bruised leg. He took a few small pins and sunk them into different areas. Alexander was not sure why he did this, but at least Hephaestion couldn't feel it. "Now, let me see about this fever."

Alexander stepped back and let the medic put his hand against Hephaestion's forehead. The medic mumbled something that Alexander did not understand to his understudy and then went back to the leg. Alexander waited for the understudy to return. He held a small vile in his hand and gave it to the medic. The medic in turn handed it to Alexander.

"That is something that will calm the fever," the medic says. "When he awakens he may be very different from the general you knew. Delirium will only claim him for awhile though. Put that in his drink, or have his page do it, and he will relax. He may not sleep but will give everyone little trouble. That is all, other than have this salve rubbed on his thigh twice a day until you run out."

The medic handed Alexander a container of a cream looking salve. Alexander noted that it smelled wonderful. He knew that he had smelled it before when he was young. No doubt Olympias had used it sometime. He glanced at the medic and wondered where he was from, for it was not Macedonia. Perhaps he had come from the same lands as his mother.

"Now," the medic said, "he just needs to be taken to his tent. There is nothing else I can do for him and I need the room here. Is that fine with you Prince Alexander?"

"Of course."

The medic called others forward. Alexander knew that they must be slaves from some land his father had long ago conquered. They picked Hephaestion up as if he were nothing and took him from the tent. Alexander began to leave before the medic stopped him.

"You are cut too my lord."

Alexander glanced down to where the medic was looking. Sure enough there was a cut and the upper of his arm. It was nothing but a scratch really. The medic seemed to think so as well. He could see that Alexander wanted to make sure that Hephaestion was well suited in his rooms.

"Come back if the skin around the wound reddens," the medic ordered. Alexander nodded and then left the tent. He quickly made his way to Hephaestion's tent. Before entering he took the lamp down from the post. It had not been lit yet, but if it were not there, then how would a slave light it? He entered the tent and placed the lamp down on a small desk. He then let the two slaves pass by him.

As soon as they left the room Alexander went to Hephaestion's side. He put the vile and the salve down on the stand next to the fur lined bed. Silently he took Hephaestion's hand in his. Again he looked down at his thigh. Reaching out he lightly brushed his fingers against the stitches. Hephaestion moaned lightly and turned his head. Once again Alexander found himself brushing the dampened hair that fell over his cheek away.

He was serene as he slept. Alexander could not help himself any longer. He reached out and with his fingers lightly traced the curves of his face. He ran his fingers over his jaw, feeling the stubble at his chin, and the soft planes of his cheeks. He put two fingers to Hephaestion's lips and felt the softness of them. He ran fingers over his closed eyes, his nose, his brow. Just touching him made Alexander feel that tingling feeling in his thighs and his heart began to beat just a few beats faster.

His fingers fell to his neck, and then to his shoulders and arms. Even in sleep Alexander could feel the muscles of his body beneath his taunt young skin. Alexander looked at Hephaestion for a moment before he boldly put a hand to his chest. Silently he untied the leather strips that held Hephaestion's breastplate on. He removed the piece of armor, holding Hephaestion's head up as he pulled the piece away from him. He set the armor down behind him and then just watched the rise and fall of Hephaestion's chest.

Once again he could not stop himself from putting a hand against Hephaestion's muscled chest. Only a thin white shirt was between Alexander's hand and the hardened planes of Hephaestion's body. Alexander glanced up at Hephaestion's face to make sure that he was not waking. He then let his hand glide lower. He felt the smoothness of his abdomen, the dip in his body just before the top of his war skirt began.

Hephaestion shifted his head as Alexander's hand began back up his chest. Alexander froze, neither moving nor removing his hand. He did not wake though. Alexander finally removed his hand and waited a few more moments before he stood. Many men were returning now and he knew that he must make an appearance. He would make it a short one though and get back to Hephaestion before he began to wake. Before he left he took the vile and opened a small chest and hid it amongst one of Hephaestion's robes. He didn't want him finding it when he was not there. The prince then reluctantly left the tent.

Alexander left the tent and immediately Cassander approached him. The arrogant bastard still had the same smirk plastered to his face. Alexander put an arm out and took Cassander's. He even hugged him as they did as friends.

"You were great," Alexander told him. Then in confidence he told him something he had been thinking for some time now. "I think you'll always be good at leading the right."

Cassander laughed, "Making a stable militia already young prince?"

"Of course," Alexander replied. He knew that Cassander was going to hold him to it though. It did not bother him, because he had meant it. Cassander truly would be a great general. "How bad are things with the men though?"

"None of them are going to throw a spear at you if that is what you mean. They are rather proud of you even. You fought well amongst them, even got on the ground with many of them. Look, you're even bleeding."

"A scratch."

"Scratches still bleed though."

"How busy are the medics," Alexander asked.

"Medics are always busy," Cassander said as he drew in a breath. His excitement about the whole thing still was rather visible. "Do you have any idea who we fought Alexander? I just got word of it from a Theban we found still breathing on the field."

"No, who?"

"The Sacred Band," Cassander told him. "Some of the best Thebans in all of their silly legion. They aren't that sacred anymore though are they?"

"They still deserve their honor Cassander," Alexander informed him. This exact thing Cassander sometimes hated about him. He was so damn politically correct. "Beaten or not they still fought well."

"You won't be wanting your honor when you are beaten and the barbarians are about to remove your head from your shoulders. I assure you of that."

"I won't be beaten."

Cassander let out a small laugh. It was not that he did not believe Alexander. He hadn't even thought about that yet. What he laughed about was the fact that Alexander had for once been openly arrogant. Usually only he would be so, well, cocky. Cassander laughed once more before turning his attention completely back to Alexander.

"No," he agreed. "I don't think you'll be beaten Alexander."

As they walked Alexander began to make his way back to the medics camp. Cassander came with him, for he wanted to see what the Thebans had done to his men. As they entered the tent there were surprisingly less men injured than Alexander had thought. But he knew that there were many men that would never return to Macedonia.

"How many," Alexander asked as a medic approached.

"Fifty or so injured," the medic began. "Mostly just cuts and so. A few need stitches, but nothing terrible. Two amputations, both of which were arms cut too bad to be healed. One eye will need to be removed from one of your father's men. Other than that I believe you fared well."

"Do you know anything of how many are dead?"

"Mostly Thebans at this point but there are many of your father's men dead I hear. Of the Companions I believe so far there are only twenty or so."

"Not bad," Cassander said.

"Tell that to their families," Alexander said. He then left the medic and Cassander's side and walked amongst his men. He spoke to each of them and offered them wine when there was no one else that could spare a hand. By the time he left, having spoken to every man, the sun was setting and the slaves were lighting lamps. Alexander knew that he had to get back to Hephaestion, for he figured he would be waking any moment.


	7. Uncovering

Title: "The First Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 7, "Uncovering"

A/N: Thanks again for the support from everyone. It is completely wonderful to know that there are readers out there. If you have a chance, please review. By the way, Queen, I promise the Hephaestion torture will stop after this chapter. I know, it's hard for even me to handle, but it makes things different and interesting. Thanks again for your reviews.

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Hephaestion gritted his teeth as he tried to pull himself into a sitting position. He thought that only his leg should be pained but his entire body screamed at him. It seemed as if he was being stabbed everywhere by thousands of sharpened needles. He pushed himself up a little further but fell back, letting out a soft cry of pain. As soon as he did he heard the flap to the tent open and saw Alexander walk in. Dropping the flap Alexander quickly ran across the room. He rushed to Hephaestion's side, putting a hand on his forearm. Alexander brushed a lock of hair away from Hephaestion's face as he sat down on the side of the bed.

"Are you alright," Alexander asked, looking him over.

"No," Hephaestion admitted, gritting his teeth as he tried once more to sit up. Alexander silently helped him. He could see the pain in Hephaestion's eyes even though he tried terribly hard to hide it. "It burns like fire."

"It will for awhile," Alexander said with a soft smile. He then picked up the cup of wine he had brought for Hephaestion. Hephaestion took it, his hand shaking slightly like a flower in a windstorm, and glanced at Alexander. Then, without saying anything, he drank. Alexander watched in pure awe. It made him think for a moment. Hephaestion, he had decided, was beginning to trust.

"What about your arm?"

"A scratch," Alexander said without looking at the wound. He knew that it could not be terrible. It didn't even hurt unless someone were to touch it. He then took the salve from the stand beside the bed and tilted it so Hephaestion could see the contents in the clay container. "The surgeon ordered for this to be rubbed over your thigh twice a day until there is no more salve."

"Surgeon," he said with a soft panic.

"Stitches, I just wanted to see your face."

Hephaestion smiled and found himself laughing even at the joke. He then drained the rest of the cup of wine. Alexander took it and placed it on the stand. While he did Hephaestion took the clay container with salve from Alexander. He looked at the ointment, smelled it even. It reminded him of a field after it rained, wet grass, dirt, flowers, and rain. He wondered what the concoction was made out of. Alexander just watched him as he pondered this new lotion.

"Here," Alexander said for a moment, "let me rub some on. It should soothe the burning sensation."

"You don't need to," Hephaestion said, stumbling over the words as he spoke them. It was hard for him to tell Alexander what to do. It wasn't really his place. Not to mention, he really did want Alexander to touch him. He wanted him to touch him in so many ways. Thinking of some of these ways even made him blush or wake up in the middle of the night.

Alexander didn't seem to hear Hephaestion's protest. Instead he put some of the salve on his hand. He then carefully began to rub the ointment over Hephaestion's thigh. He started just above his knee, where the worst of the bruising was, and worked his way up. Before he reached the middle of his thigh he took more salve from the container. Prior to rubbing the salve over Hephaestion's stitched wound.

"Ouch," Hephaestion said as he pulled his leg away when Alexander accidentally let a finger press too hard upon the center of the cut. Alexander immediately withdrew his hand.

"Phae, I'm sorry," he said.

"Alexander," Hephaestion said quietly. Alexander had been looking at his eyes but immediately turned his eyes to Hephaestion. Hephaestion said his name as if it were a plea. Alexander stared into the depths of his cerulean blue eyes. If Hephaestion thought his leg burned, Alexander wondered what he would be thinking if he were inside of his body right now. From touching him his thighs were on fire.

Alexander waited for Hephaestion to finish. For the first time Hephaestion was stumbling though. He looked away and let out a breath of air. Looking back, he still said nothing. Instead he began to mess with his hands. After a minute he glanced up, and just put an arm around Alexander's neck and pulled him to him. He put his lips against Alexander's and kissed him wildly. If this was the fever that the medic had described, Alexander didn't mind it.

Hephaestion continued to kiss him, and his other hand wandered to Alexander's chest. Alexander in turned move closer, forcing Hephaestion to lay back against the pillows. Before Alexander knew even what he was doing he had put a knee onto the bed, and leaned over Hephaestion, kissing him pleasantly. Then, again before he realized it, he had put his opposite leg over Hephaestion so that he was now straddling him.

Alexander put a hand behind Hephaestion's neck and pulled him up to meet his eager lips. Alexander then broke away from his lips and began to kiss his jaw, and then the soft flesh of his neck. Ablaze with his passions Alexander continued to kiss Hephaestion wildly. Hephaestion let out a soft whimper as Alexander's leg brushed against his, skimming over his aching flesh. But before Alexander could pull away he pulled him closer.

"Phae," Alexander whispered into his ear as he bit at the lobe. "I have to tell you something."

"Anything."

"You are going to fall asleep in a moment and I don't know if you'll remember this tomorrow." Alexander pulled away and looked into Hephaestion's eyes. The affect of the contents of the vile he'd put into his wine was taking him. Otherwise, he still kept that same trustful gaze that Alexander had seen earlier. Alexander brought his lips to Hephaestion's, speaking even as he began to kiss him. "I'm sorry Phae."

"Alexander," Hephaestion whispered his name as Alexander continued to kiss him. He paused again before saying more. Alexander put his forehead to Hephaestion's and in his hands held fistfuls of his brown hair. Hephaestion's became very blinky then, the potion from the medic was working very well, but tried to keep his eyes open as he spoke his next words. "I think…think that I…love…you."

Alexander watched as Hephaestion's eyes closed and he drifted off. He was already regretting giving him the sleeping aid. But at the same time he knew that it would help with his fever. Alexander also knew that he couldn't be with Hephaestion the way he wanted to, at least not tonight, for the general was already spent. Instead, Alexander took off his own sandals and breastplate. He then crawled onto the bed on the opposite side of Hephaestion. Silently he put his head against his chest, an arm draped over his stomach, and closed his eyes. Sleep took him almost as fast as it had Hephaestion.


	8. Returning to Pella

Title: "The First Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 8, "Returning to Pella"

A/N: Alright, the Hephaestion torture is going to stop. The wound on his thigh is still healing, so there will be some pain there though. Otherwise, things will get better. Not to mention – I know the last chapter was completely evil of me. It just made sense.

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Alexander tried hard not to glance over his shoulder once more. He knew that Hephaestion was there. The small path left little room for anyone to do but follow. As they began to round a curve Alexander quickly glanced over his shoulder despite knowing that Cassander was watching him with scrutinizing eyes. He had been since they had left the battle field days ago.

As he already knew Hephaestion's horse was a few strides back. He rode a gray stallion that another man would no longer need. Hephaestion was grateful but at the same time would have much better liked to have his old horseback. Cassander had been gentle though, telling Hephaestion that the horse had died, when Alexander could find no explanation. Of course Cassander had left a very important detail out, but Alexander did not find it important to dishearten Hephaestion. He didn't need that right now.

Hephaestion rode next to Cassander, despite the fact that the two had never gotten along. Alexander could not imagine to know why. Cassander knew why though and deep down so did Hephaestion. For some odd reason Cassander hated the fact that Alexander did not favor him in the way that he always had Hephaestion. It was not even the romance that bothered him. It was everything else, but also slightly that.

Cassander knew that he was just as good as Hephaestion in everything that they did. Why Alexander had chosen to be closest with Hephaestion, he did not know. The prince had always favored the blue eyed one though. Even when they were children and the thoughts he knew very well Alexander now had did not exist in their minds the prince had ceaselessly sided with Hephaestion. It bothered him, so he had no trouble making constant jabs at Hephaestion. He would jab at Alexander too if he did not fear the consequences, not to mention he still held a shred of hope. Perhaps one day Alexander would see him as well, not just Hephaestion.

"Almost there," Cassander said as they rounded the bend. He then glanced over at Hephaestion. Okay, maybe he could see why Alexander chose to be infatuated with Hephaestion. Cassander could not protest to Hephaestion's remarkable beauty. His eyes were unlike any others and his features were perfectly sculpted. If he dressed up, Cassander thought he would pass for a woman. "You'll need a bath."

Hephaestion glanced over at him, knowing the comment was directed at him. It was no secret that Cassander had never liked him. Many knew it but decided to look past it. Hephaestion knew though, and Cassander knew, and that was enough. The glare he gave Cassander was enough to show his feelings towards the other. Cassander sighed and turned to look at Hephaestion. It was hard to be rude to him when he had risked his life in battle. Not that he cared.

"I mean to keep the wound clean," Cassander said, and it pained him. He had never been one to apologize. He knew that this was not really what he was doing, he was merely getting something straight, but the comment was still better as a blow to Hephaestion's self esteem. If the world were perfect it would have remained what he wanted it to. But for some reason he had softened on the ride back to Pella. There must be something in the wine.

"So are you still not speaking to me," Cassander asked Hephaestion. He got no response. What was the point of trying to be nice then? Cassander glanced over at him. Well, if he wasn't going to reply, he might as well give him a piece of his mind. He began to speak, but quietly so no other could hear. "Is it because I won't kiss you the way that he does?"

This got his attention. Hephaestion immediately turned to look at Cassander. His eyes showed nothing but fear and question. Cassander knew that look. Hephaestion wondered if he actually knew something about him and Alexander. Well, of course he knew, otherwise he would not be able to say such things. But the bewilderment in Hephaestion's eyes was enough to make him want to treasure the moment.

"What," Hephaestion finally managed to ask, "are you talking about?"

Cassander smiled evilly. "Come on Hephaestion, do you honestly think that I don't know? I saw the other night when he left your tent, after the battle. He was breathing like he'd just been with a whore. That's what you are you know, the prince's whore."

"I am no such thing and you are a fool to speak such things. If Alexander were to find out do you know what he would do to you?"

"Um, ask me how I knew. Same thing you're doing."

"Shut up!"

"Don't worry," Cassander sighed. He was surprised to see Hephaestion so mad at him. If he had the strength he might leap at him from his horse. Cassander looked ahead for a moment. Alexander looked back but what could he hear? "I will not say anything as long as you promise me something."

"There is nothing to say."

"Suit yourself," Cassander said as he kicked his horse into a faster walk. Hephaestion remained behind for a moment. But he then kicked his horse lightly and caught up. As he rode closer to Cassander he noticed that Alexander had looked back again. This time Hephaestion wanted to give him some kind of signal but couldn't. Instead he slowed next to Cassander.

"Oh, you're back."

"Suppose it were true," Hephaestion said in barely a voice above a whisper. "What would you want for me to promise you?"

"Admitting it finally, I'm glad," Cassander said with a smile. He didn't wait for Hephaestion to try to deny anything. He knew that if he gave him the opportunity he would say something like he was just curious, but it still was a false accusation. Cassander knew better though. "You know Alexander, you see the power he has. Someday he will be the ruler of Macedonia and I have a feeling he will follow in his father's footsteps. I just ask one thing."

"What?"

"If you are ever lying next to him in bed, and he begins to tell you about how he plans to get rid of me for some foolish reason or something foolish I have done, will you tell me before he sends an assassin to take care of me?"

"Cassander, we haven't…"

"You will," Cassander said, his voice not faltering. It was as if he had known what Hephaestion's response would be. "For now just promise me that, will you?"

"You have my word," Hephaestion agreed. It was easy to tell that he could not figure out why Cassander had asked for something so odd. He looked at Cassander once more. Then he brought his horse farther away from Cassander's and continued to look ahead in silence. He did not speak again until they reached the palace and he was about to dismount.

"Be careful," Cassander warned him before he could begin to swing a leg over. Hephaestion paused and sent Cassander a glare. The worst thing was he knew that Cassander was right. Nevertheless, he swung the better of his legs over the horse and slid to the ground. On the instant that he hit the ground he gritted his teeth and wished he had not made such a foolish decision. Yet before he had time to think of anything else, he saw Olympias coming from the palace.

"Alexander," she said softly as she wrapped her arms around her son. Her eyes shimmered as they had when he left. Now she was proud to see him home, and especially since she knew that he had won the battle he faced. She looked him over for a moment. "Look at your arm, my poor thing. I knew that your father would not mind risking you in the first battle he saw fit. Is that the only injury you suffered?"

"Mother," Alexander breathed, "do not make this a feud."

"You know that I only worry for you Alexander. I am glad to see you home though. You have changed, I see it in your eyes. Battles do that to a man. And that is what you are now, a man, no longer my little boy."

Alexander smiled. For once it seemed that she was actually proud of something he had done. Often times she claimed to be but would later turn things around to tell him how terrible his father was. But now, she had let it go. She worried for only him and was proud for only him.

"Tell me, how was everything?"

"I'm not sure. It was a battle I suppose. There were those that were killed, those that were injured. It was a battle. What more can I say?"

"Your wound looks bad," she said as she reached out and put a finger against the cut flesh. She ran her finger over it for a moment. Then she glanced up at Alexander. It didn't bleed, it didn't look terrible, but on her boy it was horrifying to her.

"You should see Hephaestion," Alexander told her before he knew he had. She looked behind him and spotted Hephaestion. Immediately she approached him. She was torn between liking the boy and hating him. On one hand he was good to Alexander, was a great friend, would never betray him, and thus Alexander had come to like him more than all of the others. But on the other hand he was good to Alexander, was a great friend, would never betray him, and this Alexander had come to like him more than all of the others. That made him dangerous, the fact that Alexander was close to him. As a king he would have to be close to no one.

"Hephaestion," she said as she approached, stopping a short distance away from him. Instantly she saw what Alexander spoke of. The poor boy's leg looked frightful. His thigh not only had a vicious looking cut from a barbarian's blade, but a bruise that covered his entire thigh. The bruise was surreal, appearing to be black, blue, purple, and green at the same time. Olympias found herself kneeling down to look at the sight.

"Damn Ares and the things he does," she whispered as she looked at Hephaestion's thigh. She knew that it made him uncomfortable. She could tell by the way he shifted his weight and looked to Alexander for support. Olympias then stood and came closer, and knelt down again. This time she ran a finger over the line of stitches on Hephaestion's leg. "Does that still hurt?"

"Yes," Hephaestion admitted.

"You will have to have Alexander bring you to my rooms later. I have a lotion that will ease the pain better than any salve a physician could have given you."

"Thank you, my Queen."

Olympias stood and found that Alexander was now standing next to her. She seemed to realize it now. She had always had her fears but the way that Alexander looked at him now gave it away. Something that bothered her even more was that Hephaestion had the same look, except he tried to be decent and hide it in public. His blue eyes glanced up, met Alexander, and he then sheepishly looked back to the ground.

"Alexander," she said then, "I know that you must be exhausted from your trip home, but would you mind coming with me for a moment. I must speak with you. It shan't but take a few minutes."

"Of course," Alexander said. He glanced at Hephaestion and then turned to Olympias. "I will be there in just a moment."

Olympias only smiled, "Don't be too long."

It took him long enough though. Just as she was beginning to stand in her room so that she could go to the balcony to see if he was still with Hephaestion, the doors to her room opened. Alexander said something to the guards as he entered. As soon as the doors shut Olympias' smile quickly faded.

"What are you thinking Alexander," was all she had to say to make him freeze. He knew instantly that this was going to be another long lecture. What he did not know was what she was talking about.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play games with me Alexander. I'm talking about Hephaestion Amyntor, your general, and even your friend. But never was he given the title to be your lover."

"Mother," he began but was quickly stopped.

"End this relationship now Alexander, it will only bring you pain, even if it is Hephaestion. He will make a wonderful general, and he can be your friend. But as the future king he can be nothing more to you."

"Do you fear what others would think," Alexander spat. "They don't seem to mind father do they?"

"Philip would sleep with a pig if the chance came about. This is not about others Alexander, it is about you." She stood and came closer, putting a hand on his cheek. "My boy, I wish I did not have to say these things to you. You know that I am right though. Hephaestion will only love you for so long, but it will end. It always ends."

"What do you know," Alexander said as he pushed past her. He meant it too. What did she know about Hephaestion? She knew nothing, because she didn't care. She cared only about herself and making him king so that she would be able to rule through him. "Nothing has even happened between us. There is no relationship."

"There is, whether or not you see it. Even the looks you share shows it. Alexander, you are to be king. Once that day comes there will be no one that will not betray you. Indeed, Hephaestion is your friend now, but he will not be in the future. Separate yourself from him now before it is too late."

"You don't understand."

"Do you think that I don't understand," she screamed at him. "How dare you say something like that to me! Where do you find the nerve? You have seen what your father puts me through. You have always seen it. Do you think that I don't know about the things power will do to a man? Hephaestion is a nice boy, but he won't be once he is offered gold and glory, and power. It drives the hearts of all men."

"Hephaestion is not father," Alexander said as he began to retreat. He didn't want to hear anymore. He wasn't sure if he could stand to listen to another word of this. Olympias did not follow him though. Instead she just called after him.

"Alexander," she said, and he glanced over his shoulder. "Do not say that I did not warn you."

Alexander pushed the door open and left the room. Olympias watched him go, then sat down in her chair. She let tears fall from her eyes. How could he not see it? But she knew that without Hephaestion, Alexander would be nothing. The two were one and it was meant to be. How cruel the Fates could be.


	9. Fate

Title: "The First Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 9, "Fate"

Pairing: Alexander and Hephaestion

A/N: There will be slash in this chapter, please skip it if you have a problem with that. Not to mention, this is their first time together, so things aren't going to be like in my other stories. I want them to be a little inexperienced, because they would have been. Everyone else, read and review, and please enjoy.

000

It was odd how the only place he seemed to be able to go was to Hephaestion's room. The prince knew that perhaps he should not have gone. He knew very well that Hephaestion might not want him. For all Alexander knew his mother was right and Hephaestion didn't love him in the first place. Maybe he did want only the power that Alexander had. It didn't matter though if he did want that, and not Alexander, because the young prince didn't care.

He loved Hephaestion and always had, and he wanted him now more than ever. If Hephaestion didn't love him truly then so be it. Alexander loved him and that was all that mattered as he rushed in a rage down the corridor. When he reached the door, he opened it without knocking and entered, shutting the door with just the fling of the wrist.

Hephaestion turned suddenly when he heard Alexander enter. He'd just finished with his bath and wore nothing but a towel. Freezing he pulled the towel around himself and held it tightly in his hand. Alexander briskly crossed the room and without saying anything he wrapped his arms around Hephaestion. Immediately he put his lips to Hephaestion and kissed him rampantly. Alexander put a hand on the small of Hephaestion's back, his hand sliding lightly against his saturated skin, and reached up with the other into his hair. He grabbed a handful of his dripping hair and merely pulled Hephaestion closer to him.

Hephaestion on the other hand continued to hold his towel in one hand. But slowly he found his free hand roaming until it rested against Alexander's thigh. Alexander broke away from his lips, his breath heavy, and began to kiss Hephaestion's neck. Meanwhile Hephaestion let his hand wander up until it was on Alexander's back. Finally giving in he pulled Alexander closer to him.

Alexander brought his lips back to Hephaestion's and then slowly suppressed their kiss. He brought a hand to Hephaestion's cheek, and simply gazed at him for a moment. Without saying anything, they both knew. Alexander slowly crossed behind Hephaestion so that he stood behind him. He wrapped an arm over Hephaestion's shoulder and put his hand to his throat. The prince then took his wet hair and put it over a shoulder to that he may kiss his back. Hephaestion stifled a moan, but reached back and put a hand on Alexander's hip.

Alexander reached around him and put his hand over Hephaestion's. He entwined his fingers with Hephaestion's and slowly loosened Hephaestion's grip upon the towel. Alexander pulled his hand away and the towel fell to the ground at Hephaestion's feet. As it did Hephaestion gasped unintentionally. But Alexander turned him around and extinguished his protests with an eager kiss. The prince then took a few steps back and shifted his position. Alexander then moved Hephaestion back, tossing him playfully onto the bed as he did so.

Hephaestion sat up and reached out to Alexander. He helped Alexander removed his clothes, and as soon as Alexander stood bare before him, he leaned up to place a kiss against his chest. Alexander took his wrist though and lightly pushed him back. Hephaestion pulled himself up on the bed and watched as Alexander walked around to the side and ascended onto the bed. Hephaestion reached for him but Alexander took his hand, pressed a kiss to it, and then dropped it onto the bed.

"I just want to look at you for a moment," Alexander whispered as he put a hand to Hephaestion's chest. He touched him as he had done days ago, merely brushing over Hephaestion's taunt skin with the tips of his fingers. He then sat back and just looked at the glory before him. He looked at the hardened planes of Hephaestion's chest, the smooth taunt skin of his lower stomach, his muscled thighs. Everything about him reminded Alexander of Pygmalion, who had molded the perfect woman out of a ball of clay. Surely the gods had chiseled everything perfectly about Hephaestion, his body, his handsome but also boyish looking features, and even his personality. Everything about him was flawless.

Hephaestion stared at Alexander, his cerulean eyes trying to understand what Alexander was doing. The prince's gaze made him uncomfortable. Yet he did not move, despite the fact that he wanted desperately too. He did not want Alexander to find a flaw with him. If he looked for too long Hephaestion knew he would see something that would not satisfy his needs. But Alexander moved closer and put his lips against his once more before Hephaestion had to say anything. His silent plea had been heard.

Alexander carefully positioned himself above Hephaestion, straddling him like he had done before. But this time he knew that he wouldn't have to hold anything back. Tonight, he could cease being a prince, and just be Hephaestion's lover. He kissed him savagely, biting Hephaestion's lower lip, and letting out a stifled cry as he did so. Hephaestion put a hand Alexander's back, and the other on his arm. He pulled him closer to him, kissing him back until Alexander pulled Hephaestion's back away from the bed, elevating him in the air. He placed his chin on Alexander's shoulder and held tight to his back.

Hephaestion dug his fingers into Alexander's back as the prince's leg hit his thigh. But neither of them stopped. Alexander continued to lift Hephaestion off of the bed until both were on their knees, barbarously gripping each other and kissing. After moments of this Alexander let Hephaestion push the both of them back down. Alexander widened his legs so that Hephaestion could position himself comfortably above him. Hephaestion kissed Alexander, then moved to his chest where he lapped at the beads of sweat forming on his muscled lower chest. His brown hair spread over Alexander, sending little shivers up Alexander's spine as Hephaestion moved, his hair teasing Alexander all the more.

Alexander felt Hephaestion pressed against him. Alexander eagerly pushed himself back against Hephaestion, needing him terribly. Hephaestion looked up at Alexander, making sure that Alexander knew what he was asking for, and Hephaestion even had to ask himself if he knew what he was doing. Alexander pushed himself up, taking Hephaestion's arm, and pulled him from the bed. He then picked up a vile of liquid from a small stand and uncorked it. Pouring some of the contents onto his hand he reached down and took Hephaestion's length in his hand. As he did so he kissed Hephaestion, running his hand through his damp hair while he did so.

He then turned and faced a cool stone wall. He put an arm out to steady himself as he wrapped Hephaestion's arm around his neck. Hephaestion let Alexander mold himself against him. When the prince reached back and pulled him closer he let out a small breath of air he had been holding. He was fully against him now and felt Alexander draw in a breath.

"Phae," Alexander whispered the name, waiting for Hephaestion to claim him. Thousands of thoughts raced through his head and he knew it must be worse for Hephaestion. Yet he then felt Hephaestion's warmth against him. Hephaestion put his other hand around Alexander's leg, very close to touching Alexander's own erection, and steadied him. Hephaestion then put his forehead to Alexander's back as he pressed himself inside of him.

The sensation of it caused Alexander to stumble forward. He caught himself with an arm before he rested completely against the wall. A moan came from deep inside of his throat, and his breathing became heavier. But once past the initial pain of Hephaestion claiming him he rather much liked the closeness. He heard Hephaestion behind him, breathing just as heavily as he did, and felt his kisses against his back.

Hephaestion's hand against Alexander's hip then moved lower and he took the prince in his hand. Alexander put his right hand over Hephaestion's as he worked at releasing him. Alexander, having waited far too long for this it seemed let himself go within moments, letting out a loud cry of Hephaestion's name. Hephaestion did not move his hand though, but continued to hold him, and so Alexander did not move either. Instead Alexander took his other arm and held it up, reaching behind him for Hephaestion. He managed to grasp the back of Hephaestion's neck as he raised his head. As Alexander held him close Hephaestion reached up and held his wrist.

Alexander felt Hephaestion's hot breath against his back and suddenly let out another moan of ecstasy as Hephaestion thrust it seem even further into him. He then heard Hephaestion let out a soft utterance as he winced and put his forehead against Alexander's back. He did this once more before spilling himself inside of Alexander, uniting them as one. He gripped a little harder upon Alexander's wrist, the rise and fall of his chest heavy against Alexander's back. He then let go of his wrist, but did not move otherwise. Alexander didn't move either, just reached behind him and held the back of Hephaestion's right thigh.

After a moment Hephaestion slowly separated himself from Alexander, who immediately turned around. He pulled Hephaestion to him, kissing him hard upon the lips, and let himself stagger one last step back. With his back pressed against the wall he let his legs slowly give out beneath him. Together they slid to the floor, locked in each other's embrace, both panting heavily and unable to catch their breaths.

"Phae," Alexander whispered as he kissed him, holding his back and the back of his thigh as he did so. "I won't be able to be without you now."

"I know," Hephaestion replied, his breathing still not calming. He then wrapped his arms around him and just held him in a tight embrace. Then, he said quietly words that Alexander would never forget. "You are the sun to my stars Alexander."


	10. King of Macedonia

Title: "The First Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 10, "King of Macedonia"

A/N: So Alexander wins his first battle, now we jump ahead a little in time. It is now October, 336 BC. Pausanias has killed Philip, and Alexander is now the King of Macedonia at the age of twenty. This is only four days after Philip's death.

000

He put his hand against the door but did not yet have the strength to push it open. Instead he sighed and put his forehead against the door, wishing that he could be braver perhaps. No one had entered though. No one thought him weaker for not being able to be the first. Silence drifted through the corridor and he had to glance over his shoulder once to make sure that nothing was wrong. The silence bothered him, but the noise would have been far worse had it drifted under the door and into the room.

He glanced down at the newest tray of food that sat at his feet. Silently he bent down and picked up the golden platter. Then, with a deep breath, he pushed the door open. He had accomplished nothing yet though. Speechlessly he entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He tried to make as little noise as possible but the door shut with a creaking and a clang. Still holding the tray, he glanced up.

No extra light entered the room. The shutters were shut and thick drapes covered that. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust before he took a few more steps into the murky center of the room. There was no sound, and he approached the bed, the golden tray still weighing in his hands. As he did so he heard a faint noise. It was nothing but a _tsk_, but he knew what it meant.

Hephaestion froze, unsure of what to do next. There was no further noise though, no screaming as there had been before today, just silence. He turned and quickly set the platter down on a table. A scroll was rolled out and he carefully pulled it out from under the tray and rolled it. He then tossed it back into a cubby from which many scrolls hung out, the cubby and its contents in disarray. He then turned back, his cerulean eyes scanning the dark room, yet he did not know what he expected to find.

"Alexander," he said softly as he approached the bed. He had managed to take three steps, bringing him three steps closer to his goal, but he was still so far away. He saw a hand then, and froze once more. Upsetting him further would do nothing. It would only bring out his rage once more.

"Go," Alexander said rabidly. Hephaestion could see only his eyes in the dark, a faint light had found a way onto the bed and lingered there. They were red from crying but at the same time were full of a rage Hephaestion knew he could not compete with. Hephaestion did not move though, hoping Alexander would take back his words. He did no such thing though. Instead he screamed the same word once more.

Hephaestion did as he was asked. He knew not what else to do. He left the room far quicker than he had entered. As soon as he was out of the room he rested his back against the door and closed his eyes, breathing out a deep sigh. As he did he heard footsteps coming and opened his eyes instantaneously. Soon Cassander stepped into the light. His eyes met with Hephaestion's and he asked with his eyes if Hephaestion had been triumphant. Hephaestion gave a saddened shake of his head.

Many had come to try and speak to him but he wanted to speak to no one. The whole ordeal had pushed him into the room it seemed and locked him in, throwing away the key. At first no one had worried when he missed dinner for a night. Many missed dinner that night. The only one truly happy had been Olympias, who smiled like a predator the entire time, unafraid to show that she certainty did not miss Philip. When Alexander did not leave his room the next day, and Hephaestion had tried to go to him and was refused, everyone began to wonder. After his outrage at noon of the second day there was no question about it. Alexander had temporarily lost his mind.

He would speak to no one. Most that entered had something thrown at them, furious words and yells only if they were lucky. Olympias had gone to him first but he managed to even throw her out of the room, locking the door behind her. He'd unlocked it later though but it was known by then that no one was to enter. Cassander had tried, Ptolemy, Antipiter, Cleitus, Parmenion, they had all tried. They were the unluckiest of them all. Hephaestion had then been told to try, and at first he did not want to. He thought it fine for Alexander to take time to grieve. But starving himself was not an answer and he quickly grew worried and entered the room that night.

Hephaestion had more success than the others did. He managed to get a few words in before Alexander began to scream at him to leave him alone. Just the words had crushed Alexander, but he couldn't deny him anything and left, fulfilling his request. He tried once more later but Alexander just screamed at him more, and had even thrown a pillow at him. It was a pillow, yes, but it was the thought of it that hurt Hephaestion. Cassander had decided to look at the good, laughing, and told him only to be thankful it was not a golden vase.

"Did he throw a fit," Cassander asked. He didn't even do it to be rude. Part of him was concerned for Alexander's welfare as well. He cared about him enough to know that he needed to be comforted.

"He is getting better," Hephaestion replied softly. He wanted so badly to be able to speak with Alexander. He had missed him in the last four days. It was hard, having him right before him, but not being able to tell him anything. It seemed that two years ago they were so close together for a week, but then had begun to spread apart, and now they were just acquaintances. He wanted to help him but feared at the same time that he did not know how.

Cassander saw the suffering and discomfort in Hephaestion's eyes. He'd been watching him slowly burn out for the last two years. No one else seemed to notice. Hephaestion had a wonderful way of pretending and holding his head high when really he should have been on the floor crying. He looked away from him for a moment, sometimes it was hard for even him to see, but he then looked back at him. _Its not you,_ he wanted to tell Hephaestion.

_He still loves you as he did in Chaeronea,_ he whispered in his mind. Getting the actual words out would be harder. He didn't care that much, or at least like to pretend he didn't. Yet he cared for Hephaestion, even though he did hate him, making the relationship only he knew about very odd indeed. Love him, hate him, don't tell him, just hate him. That was how Cassander had chosen to deal with his feelings. It generally worked too, but at the moment he felt his features softening, and he turned to Hephaestion.

"What happened," Cassander asked quietly when Hephaestion turned his eyes to meet his gaze. Cassander crossed his arms, rather uncomfortable with being stared at by such a beauty, and rather uncomfortable with the subject he was bringing up. "When we got back to Pella two years ago, what happened?"

"Many things happened," Hephaestion said, glancing away. Cassander saw the way that his lower lip began to tremble though. This was it, two years of pain, and he was about to be the one to receive it. Cassander silently stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Hephaestion in a hug. Hephaestion tried to be still but before he could stop himself wrapped his arms around Cassander and let tears fall from his eyes as if he were going to single handedly water all of Macedonia's farmland and fill the streams.

Cassander held him, putting a hand on his back and lightly rubbing him. He knew not how to comfort him any way. He just let Hephaestion cry, knowing that no other would stumble upon them. After a few moments Hephaestion's tears lessened and he stopped shaking like a leaf. Cassander had to remind himself a few times within this period that he hated him.

"I'm sorry," Hephaestion said, suddenly pulling away and wiping his face with his hands. It was easy to see how frayed and worn out at the ends he was though. It was not only in the way he acted. It was in the paleness of his face, and his eyes that had begun to always seem tired no matter how long he slept for, among a few other things. Hephaestion wiped the tears away from his face once more, and Cassander reached out and pulled a strand of hair away from his face. He then silently brushed the eyelash off of his cheek.

"Don't ever do it again," he said then, his mood drastically changing. Cassander then walked briskly away, his jaw hardened, his attitude back to the regular uncaring general. He left Hephaestion, not caring what he thought really. It didn't matter what he thought of him, he was still Alexander's, whether he liked it or not.

000

Alexander pressed his forehead against the door. It was hard to hear anything through them. He remembered being a child, trying to listen to the conversations of other's, but never being able to hear the words clearly. Everything was inaudible. Everything, with the exception of tears, which he knew very well from years of spying on his mother. He put a hand on the door and just listened for a moment.

_Oh Phae, what have I done,_ he thought as he listened to Hephaestion cry. He knew there was another out there with him, but not who. He knew only that it was not him and that was enough. 'Many things happened', he heard again in his head. He wanted to scream. _Hephaestion, no, I never stopped wanting you. You think I have, I hear it, but I didn't. I'm afraid Phae –so afraid to love you. It's not even you, its them, they taught me to be like this. Hephaestion don't leave. I didn't mean it, I don't want you to go, I never have. _

He heard the other leave. Heard Hephaestion wait a moment before retreating the opposite way. What had he done to him in the past years that could hurt him so badly? Then the answer slapped him in the face. Nothing, he had done nothing. He had not told him that he loved him as he did before, had not touched him, had not done much more than look at him. But even a look meant nothing if he then went to bed alone without so much as a tender word to Hephaestion.

Damn them all, his mother, his father! What did they know about love? Why had he ever been foolish enough to listen to them? It was foolish, trying to shove Hephaestion away. He couldn't build that façade around his heart that his mother wanted to. He couldn't be cruel like his father. Lonely nights had haunted him, but he couldn't tell Hephaestion, couldn't tell him all that he wanted.

He knew at first that Hephaestion had been saddened, it was easy to see in his blue eyes. They held all of his emotions, those eyes, and Alexander knew every one of them. Sad at first, yes, but then he seemed to be fine. He would look at him longingly every now and then, as Alexander looked at him, but he would then avert his eyes. Alexander thought he had moved on. It was foolish though, to think such. How could he have been such a fool?

Alexander drew in a breath, blinded by his tears, haunted by his rage. He stood from his crouched position on the floor and pulled the door open. He ran out, looking in both directions for Hephaestion, but saw no one. He knew why. He had told them to stay away. He had banished them from his hurt, from his loss, but it was all of Macedonia's loss. Philip had been a king to all but only a father to him. Only one man concerned him at the moment though, Hephaestion, whom he had irrationally exiled from his heart and life long ago.

He ran down the hall, bare chested, covered only with a pair of dark brown sleeping pants. It didn't matter though, his appearance, at the moment. He rushed down the hall, checking each smaller side hall, looking for any sign of him. At last he came to the end of the hall and ran out into the light of the sun. It blinded him at first and he had to put a hand to his eyes to shield himself. He never stopped running though. How far could he have gotten?

He saw him then, just his back, but knew it could be no other. The sun struck his dark hair, illuminating every strand of hair. Alexander called out to him, called out his name as he ran. Hephaestion stopped then, turned around, and braced himself as Alexander slammed against him. He hugged him so tight that Hephaestion found it for a moment hard to breathe.

Alexander didn't care though. He just held him tightly, so tight he knew he was crushing him, but he had him now. He was no others. They were one and he needed him. He needed to have his love, for without it he was nothing, the past days had made him realize it. Tears streamed down his face as he pulled away, and taking both of his hands and putting them to Hephaestion's cheeks, he kissed Hephaestion's forehead. He kissed his forehead, his nose, his eyes, his cheeks, his lips. He kissed at him wildly, as if he had been struck with fever and knew not his actions. But he did know what he did and regretted not doing it sooner, not doing it now.

"Alexander," Hephaestion said as he wrapped his arms around Alexander. He held him too. He was back, Hephaestion didn't know for how long, but he knew the Alexander he loved was with him at this moment. He couldn't let him go. He wouldn't let him go. They could not be torn apart again as they had been.

"I love you," Alexander said as he held him, crying and grabbing a handful of Hephaestion's hair. He cried, unabashed, and spoke words he'd been longing to say for two years. "I've always loved you my Patroclaus, and I shall never stop loving you. If I am the sun you are my stars. We are one, and I couldn't leave you, even though I tried to. Phae I didn't want to space myself from you, they told me to, and for a moment I believed them. I thought she was protecting me, but she wasn't. I know that now Hephaestion, and I won't let it happen again. I love you, love you so much, please don't be angry with me. Let me love you, love you like I did, because I never stopped doing so."

"I know," Hephaestion replied, glad to hear the words, even though he'd known it all along. It was not hard to see when it had started. It was easy to see the glares Olympias suddenly cast at him. They'd remained friends, but Alexander had even altered that friendship, making sure not to confide too much in him anymore. He kept a distance from him when others were around and when they were almost alone someone would come and take him away before the words could be said. It was easy to see, but now things were clear. "I love you too Alexander. I will always love you, always."

000

"Ridiculous," Olympias said as she filed her nails, as Alexander screamed at her. He asked if she had anything to do with Philip's death. Did he see her with a blade? Did she look so much like Pausanias? Alexander slammed a hand down in front of her, waiting for her to say more it seemed.

"You lie," he accused.

"Alexander," she said in her most motherly voice, which was also at times her predatory voice, as it was now. "I think it is best that you stop worrying about your father. Philip is dead now. I don't think you are helping his situation by screaming at me as if I am a servant."

"You wanted him dead."

"Yes," she said, looking up at him with her green eyes. She gazed at him intently as her lips parted and she said in her most barbaric voice her next words. "Do you mean to say you never wished him so?"

"Only when you told me to want it so! But I never hated him the way you do. You wanted him dead, mother," he said the word as if it were a disease. "You have your ways about you. Killing those that you fear, just like you killed that child and his mother!"

"Oh, the new whore? Terrible accident Alexander and the child had trouble breathing. You saw it too, don't lie to yourself. The gods took that child, not I, even though it did make me rather joyous. It is because of their deaths that you have Macedonia in you grasp now."

"You killed them all," Alexander said as he turned, pacing back toward the door, before he came back. Olympias thought this was a game. She just manicuring her nails, which were already fine. He lunged forward and flipped the table in front of her, the contents flying into the air, and the table fell over. Olympias sat back in her chair but did nothing more.

"Feel better?"

"Why do you have to ruin everything? Why couldn't you let me be happy?"

"Are we on another subject," she asked coldly.

"Why did you turn me against Hephaestion? You liked him, you never said you didn't. It was only after Chaeronea that you hated him, and you tricked me into doing the same. You used a mother's love, and you used mine, and you turned it against me. Why did you do it!"

"I still like him," she agreed, "just not in your bed. Not constantly by your side. Not hanging on your every word. I like him fine, as he is now."

"It wasn't your concern!"

"Wasn't it? Do you think that I would let him take you from me? Do you think that I could sit by and watch him slowly turn against you as all of them will? That is what they will do Alexander. They begin to do it even now. They all want your crown, your kingdom, and you would have given it to Hephaestion had it been yours two years ago!"

"That's the thing about Hephaestion," he fired back at her in an icy tone, even though he was red with anger. "He would never have asked for it."

"You know nothing of the hearts of men Alexander. You haven't been alive long enough to see how they change. They are like snakes, those closest to you. They are just waiting to strike."

"Not Hephaestion."

"No," she screamed, finally breaking. She stood and put her hand to Alexander's cheek. "Hephaestion is not a snake. He is worse though Alexander, because you love him. Your love for him blinds you. I heard what happened in Chaeronea."

"What are you talking about?"

"He was the one that you went to find Alexander. You gave no concern to yourself. You cared for only him, running around on a field that still had living Thebans, just to find him. Risking your life for his. Foolish!"

"Check your slithering serpents tongues mother, because you don't know of what you speak."

"Don't I? You would have made love to him there had he not been injured. Instead you waited until you were back in Pella to do so. Yes, I knew, I saw that look in your eye. You loved him, as I loved Philip once, but look where it led me."

"You loved him," Alexander asked, taken aback by her confession.

"I never stopped."

"Hephaestion is mine," Alexander said finally, putting his foot down. He would take no more of her lies. He would not let her control him. From now on he would make his own decisions. He was tired of being a pawn. "I love him, and I won't stop loving him. If you so much as look at him wrong, so help me, I'll kill you like father vowed to."

"You wouldn't," she hissed.

"Believe me," he threatened. "Father used me to play his games as you did yours. I learned from him as well as you. Watch what you do Olympias, for right now, I am not your son."

"How can you say that? Philip never wanted you. I wanted you! You are my son and I will not see you throw away your life on Hephaestion Amyntor, who is no better than the son of a common Persian whore!"

Alexander backhanded her. He froze after doing so, his hand still in the air. Olympias turned her head, her eyes burning his. He then turned, without saying another word, and left the room. He had bigger problems compared to her. Already Parmenion had told him of the revolts beginning in Thrace, Illyria, and Thebes. He had enough to worry about and he didn't need her insults or her trickery. Maybe his father had been right, maybe she was a sorceress. He found himself regretting thinking so though. She was his mother, and Zeus how he hated her. It didn't matter though, today had already been too chaotic, but he had Hephaestion. That was all that mattered. As he left Olympias' chambers Hephaestion turned from where he looked out a balcony, and then came to Alexander's side. Together they walked down the hall, one a king, but the other very much the same thing.


	11. Revolts

Title: "The First Campaign:

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 11, "Revolts"

A/N: I know this story was supposed to be about the first campaign and likely should have already ended, but you know Muses. They won't let you stop sometimes. Therefore I will continue for a little while longer. Thanks for the reviews and support, esp. Queen. Everyone else, review and enjoy. This chapter begins to show how truly one Alexander and Hephaestion are.

Historical Note: When Philip was assassinated and Alexander was crowned King of Macedonia there was unease amongst the states that once belonged to the fallen king. The first state to revolt was Illyria, and soon after Thrace and Thebes revolted against Alexander as well. Therefore, before he could do anything else, Alexander had to regain control of these areas. Just days after Philip's death this began in 336 BC. Thebes, the last city to fall, fell in October, 335 BC.

000

He stared at the blocks before him, his arms crossed, just thinking. He knew that the others around him waited for an answer, but it mattered not to him. Sometimes you were only given one chance from the gods. It would make no sense to waste it. Again he looked at every angle, walking around the room in silence, wondering what the best angle was and how he'd go about getting to it. After some time he glanced up at Hephaestion and Cassander. He nodded to both and they came forward.

"Here," he said pointing to a gate in the wall. Both commanders listened carefully, watching his every move as he ran his finger in the path he wanted them to take. "Split here. Cassander take the right, Hephaestion the left."

"And you my lord," Parmenion asked from where he stood by a wall. Alexander looked up with a smile. He knew that one would ask it. Parmenion may have been one of the only few bold enough to do so. Alexander in turn pointed to another gate, showing him where his legion would enter, and the path they would take. He then knocked over the block.

"That would be how to conquer them," Alexander finished. He glanced up then, saw that look in Hephaestion's eyes. He wanted to say something but would not risk doing so in the company of others. Alexander decided to address it anyway. "What is it Hephaestion?"

He looked up suddenly. His cerulean eyes showed concern. Whatever he had to say he wanted to keep private. Alexander knew he must find the statement to be something that could shed bad light on him. After moments ago in his mother's room he wasn't sure that it would. Hephaestion swallowed, and then in the lightest tone stated his question, instead of the plea he wanted.

"What about those that aren't revolting," Hephaestion asked. For the first time Cassander looked over at him. He didn't hold his usual stance though, he softened, knowing that Hephaestion was right. He did not glare at him as he usually did when Hephaestion made some comment when they were discussing battles. Despite the gallant scar on his leg, Cassander was still unsure of his capabilities, for Hephaestion was too soft for war. He had a soul that could not be corrupted and he felt the pain of others. Cassander knew the one reason he'd ever chosen to follow the path of a Companion, knew it well, and thought it was a foolish reason for someone that wasn't even that good.

Alexander glanced down. He looked at the buildings around the armory, where he knew the Illyrians would be after their retreat. But he also knew that there was a market surrounding this building. He thought of it for a moment but wasn't sure of what to do regarding the others. The thought really hadn't crossed his mind. Hephaestion, feeling that it was his fault he'd put Alexander in this predicament, quickly stepped in though.

"What if," he said, placing the block back up. Alexander then watched as he took the small figure of a horse and placed it in front of the gate he was to enter. Another horse was stationed in front of the other gate, both now stood with a wooden horse figure in front of them.

"Don't give them the opportunity to retreat," Cassander finished. It was hard not to smile a little and it wasn't even the thought of the plan that made him do so. He liked the fact that Hephaestion had come up with something so, merciless.

Parmenion sighed and came forward finally, "And how do you plan, Hephaestion son of Amyntor, to get a legion in front of the gate. We can't be on the field and around their hold at the same time. It would never work."

Alexander looked up at Hephaestion. He wanted him to be able to finish his plan. He silently prayed that Hephaestion would stand up to Parmenion. Hephaestion rarely stood up to anyone, feeling that it was not his place. But it was, especially if he had a formulated plan. There was a silence, but he saw it in Hephaestion's eyes. He had an answer but why wasn't he speaking it!

"Let him finish Parmenion," Cassander said, even casting him a glare that showed he thought himself above the older leader. Cassander then glanced across the table to Alexander. There was a silent thank you whispered from the king's eyes and Cassander looked down. At least he'd finally noticed something. It took another moment but Hephaestion swallowed once more and finished his thought. To begin he pointed to the field where they would first encounter the Illyrians.

"We fight them here," Hephaestion said and Parmenion rolled his eyes as if to say everyone already knew that. Hephaestion did not notice though. He picked up a medium sized building and placed it out on the field. He then took a smaller building to represent the Illyrians and put it down in front of Macedonia's arms. "If they retreat they will first try to reach this gate. Cassander's men won't be able to cover it if they still fight, none of out men will. But we have three times as many men. If we let these soldiers," he said indicating a trained group in the back, "go around the fighting then they can hold the gate."

"Insane, having them go around," Parmenion instantly protested. Alexander already had a look in his eye though. He paid no attention really to the fight that was starting before him. He heard Cassander say something, looking around Hephaestion in the middle. Cassander may or may not have been defending Hephaestion. It was most likely that he just wanted to fight with someone and now had an excuse.

"It is brighter than anything you have suggested," Cassander threw at Parmenion, not afraid to give him an honest opinion. Hephaestion stood in between them, thinking of which one to hold back should there be a fight. Parmenion called Cassander a young fool and he almost lunged at him. "Better a young fool than a dried up hag that's afraid to fight."

"Stop," Alexander ordered when they became too loud. He had the same fearless smile his father got in his younger years. He pointed to the Illyrian forces, tapping the block with a finger, same smile all the while. "They will retreat, just as the Thebans at Chaeronea. Hephaestion's right Parmenion. If they retreat into the city we risk killing women and children and those that want nothing to do with this fight. We have to take the opportunity of abandonment from them.

"He's also right in saying we have a far vaster group of legions. Moving these men around Cassander's," he said pointing to the group of _saris _holding men Hephaestion had pointed out, "makes more sense than anything."

"But if we destroy them on the field we won't have to wait for their retreat," Ptolemy said from his position against the wall. He knew that others were thinking it. He just liked the idea of having it said. Alexander glanced up at him and merely shook his head.

"We will destroy them, but it won't be without a fight. These Illyrians know how to position their men. They have weapons we haven't been able to see before and hold in our hands. Do not take them for a simple enemy because your fathers call them barbarians Ptolemy, it isn't wise." He then changed his plans entirely. All listened even though some disagreed with this new strategy. "Cassander, your men take the right as planned. Hold them off best you can, don't let them take our ground. Hephaestion, you take the left. I want your men to make sure they don't push back as well. I will take their center, which will be their strongest."

He glanced up to make sure they all followed, they did, and he continued. "Ptolemy, when Cassander's men hold the Illyrians order your men to wrap around. You must make sure that gate is protected. But as you approach look for archers on the walls. There may be a few. The rest of you, take the centers of the left and right, covering behind Cassander and Hephaestion's men. Hephaestion and Cassander, listen closely. If I break through their center, ride to meet me before the gates. We shall turn and charge them back. Bring your men with you and the others will stay where they were fighting.

"If I don't get through by the time Ptolemy is at the gate, or by the time they begin to retreat, wrap your men around anyway. Get in front of Ptolemy and ride your hardest straight towards me. We won't let them near the city. We'll push them farther back and take care of them there."

Parmenion still did not like the idea. It was not tactical, having never been done, and it had never been tested or taught. How did Alexander think he knew more at the age of twenty than he, who'd passed that day long ago? It was in his blood, this foolishness, and he hated it. He glanced back to Cleitus. He merely shook his head, for what say had he? Not to mention –he rather liked the idea, new as it was, it would work.

"Good," Alexander finished. "Now go."

The men did as they were told. Few left in anger, but it mattered not. Alexander glanced up as Hephaestion went to get his helmet, which he hated due to Alexander's modifications to it, and glared at Cassander who followed. There was something he did not trust about him. He had the eyes of his mother, always watching, always predatory. He didn't like it. But he looked back down at his new strategy and made his own move to dress for battle.

000

Hephaestion was barely out of the tent before Cassander grabbed him hard on the back of the arm. He then pushed him to the side, into the side of a weapons cart, and put a finger to Hephaestion's lips. It was his warning for him to be quiet but Hephaestion had no intention of screaming anyway. Cassander glanced over both shoulders before putting a finger inches away from Hephaestion's face.

"Never," he ordered him, "make Alexander look like he doesn't know what he is doing. Half the men in there would overthrow him if they thought he wasn't commanding the army well. Opening your mouth only puts him in an awkward situation. Don't do it again."

"I only spoke when asked," Hephaestion said, shoving Cassander away. Cassander didn't come back at him. But he didn't let the conversation drop either.

"That is the problem with the two of you. He can see in your eyes what you are feeling. Do you think that he can't? You have to learn to be a different person now Hephaestion. You can't be his lover in that room, you can't even be a friend. You have to be a general, nothing more. Understand me?"

"Yes," he answered weakly. Cassander, accepting this, quickly strode away. Hephaestion did the same, returning to his tent to further dress for battle. He entered and instantly let out a sigh he had been holding. He picked up the helmet that Alexander had given him. It was rather extravagant, far prettier perhaps than protective. He'd given helmets to the other commanders, but this one was by far the better of the group.

Hephaestion picked it up and looked at it for a moment. As light hit it the helmet appeared more golden. The plume was made of a silver white hair, shining all the more. Hephaestion set it down on the bed and then went back to dressing. He'd thanked Alexander, understanding it was a gift, but didn't tell him what he truly felt. He didn't want his gifts, he wanted only his love. Nothing else mattered to him.

"Phae," Alexander whispered from behind him. Hephaestion turned to face him. He did not know how Alexander had managed to dress so quickly. But he looked wonderful in his battle armor. He always looked like a god fallen from Mount Olympus to Hephaestion though. That would never change. Alexander put his arms around him, held him, and Hephaestion held him tightly back.

"Be with me," Alexander whispered into his ear as he held him. It was what he felt. He wanted Hephaestion to be beside him in this battle but knew, like the last, they would be separated. Hephaestion held him, lightly running a hand through his hair.

"I'll be there," Hephaestion told him, the longing clear in his voice. He pulled away to place a kiss on Alexander's lips to calm him. It wasn't needed though. Alexander knew that he would win and that no harm would come to him. He always knew such. "Just don't do anything foolish."

"Hephaestion, when we get back, this time I won't let you go. I want to be with you tonight Hephaestion."

They both knew that it was a deeper wanting then just their bodies. They wanted one another's soul again. They wanted that connection that had always lain between them, the one that had been covered for some time, but had never faded. It was an invisible thread that bound them and would never be cut, not by the strongest enemy, or the sharpest blade. Both knew this thread existed, felt it in their being. Hephaestion pressed his lips to Alexander and kissed him, telling him in doing so that he would come to him tonight.

"Alexander, you are the foremost of them all," Hephaestion then said, touching his cheek, eyes of sky meeting eyes of earth. "You are Achilles, and they will not beat you. Go and prepare now, and next you see me I shall be your general, but tonight I will be only yours."

000

Cassander could see the plume of Hephaestion's helmet from where he was positioned. He spotted him and then looked away. He stared at the advancing Illyrian fleet. Revolting, it was the most dull-witted thing they could have done. They didn't even appear to have a strategy, just a large mass of men. Cassander's horse stepped forward and then turned its head. Cassander glanced to where the horse looked and saw only Alexander upon Bucephalus. What was he doing now?

He rode in front of the lines, speaking to the men, causing them to cheer and become wild. Cassander sighed. At least Alexander had them excited before Ares took those that died. He glanced once more over to Hephaestion. _Stupid fool,_ he thought. Why couldn't he have picked someone else to fall in love with? He laughed in his head then, looking at Hephaestion as he sat perfectly atop his horse. _If we were in Persia, he'd be missing his testicles. _

The Illyrians stopped and Alexander turned Bucephalus toward them, and then screamed at them with his sword raised. Cassander felt it, the moment about to come, and then Alexander was off. In his head he counted, counted five seconds off, and then he raised his sword and moved his men out at a run. The two armies collided with a crash when they met. The screams of horses and some men echoed across the planes.

All fought for their lives, for if you stopped fighting, you were dead. Cassander drove his sword downward, in forceful thrusts, as he broke through the first line of Illyrians. They were not a simple enemy, and they fought well, but Cassander had a higher vantagepoint. Some of his men did not. But those on the ground were not of his concern. He could only have concern for himself at the moment.

By the time he saw Ptolemy's men sealing off the gate he realized for the first time how far he'd gotten amongst the center of the Illyrians. He drove his sword down once more into the shoulder of a man, pulling it away with a stream of blood that hit his leg. He then screamed loudly to his men, turning his horse, and began to cut around the rest of the Illyrians. With his sword he made a good path, and waited for Nearchus' men to hold back some of the Illyrians. He then charged through them with his horse, pushing those not out of the way away, with his men trailing behind him.

Cassander looked to where Alexander was still fighting in the Illyrian center as he cantered his horse towards Ptolemy's forces. He turned his head and looked over his shoulder. Yes, his men were there. There were only a few missing if he had to guess. He then pulled his horse around, telling his men to go on and get into formation. From his new position, higher above the plane on a slight slope, he surveyed the battle.

He saw Alexander, who was in no real danger. The king was fighting his way through the center but there were far more men there. Cassander cursed silently when he saw Hephaestion's men breaking through on the left. He cursed not because they did it, but because he didn't see Hephaestion. He could find that silver-white plume nowhere in the battle. Cassander turned and rode up to his men, waited a moment for Hephaestion's men to come to a formation. He then looked behind him for Ptolemy.

"Ptolemy," he called out when he saw them. The other commander turned his horse and looked at Cassander. He nodded, his men were ready. Cassander then looked to the formation of men, two formations, that he would have to lead. He called out to them loudly. "Don't let them pass back! Now!"

000

Hephaestion pulled the horse hard to the right, knocking an Illyrian down as he did so. As he did the plume of silver-white hair blew in front of his face. He kicked the horse, ordering it to move, and then reached up and pulled off the helmet. It was easier to see without it. He saw Alexander and moved his horse toward him. After a moment he appeared to be closer, but still far away. He thrust his sword downward, into the men that were trying to stab at his legs, and continued.

"Hephaestion," he heard Cleitus scream. Hephaestion looked around for him but there were no other horses to be seen. This could only mean that he was on the ground. Hephaestion looked for him in a blind furry, still thrusting at the men around him, not willing to go down like he did in Chaeronea. Finally he saw Cleitus sprawling on the ground with an Illyrian. Cleitus had the better of him and picked a large rock off of the ground and smashed it against the Illyrian's head.

"Hephaestion," Cleitus called to him, "protect Alexander!"

Hephaestion looked again to where Alexander was. He clenched his jaw and he forced his horse forward more. Damn his helmet, it gave him away on the field. Finally his horse startled and made a sudden mad dash through the men around them. It was about time. The horse ran through the Illyrians, taking slices to the chest, and a spear to the back flank, but was wild with fear and made its way to just a few men away from Alexander.

The horse wouldn't still as Hephaestion pulled at its reins. It was in a blind furry now. Hephaestion pulled as hard as he could to the right and jerked the horse around. He knew that it wasn't the horse's fault but if he couldn't control it the charger was no use to him. Hephaestion finally got the horse under some control and raised his sword before thrusting it down again. He looked over to Alexander, who was doing fine. He then saw Cassander and the rest of the legion coming back.

Hephaestion saw an Illyrian knock Nearchus from his horse and climb onto the charger. Hephaestion kicked his horse, giving it that wild feeling once more, and raced through a small path free of Illyrians. The horse leapt over a few bodies but trampled over the rest. He reached the Illyrian before he could get far and drove his sword into his back. He showed the Illyrian off and grabbed hold of the other horse. He turned both chargers and led the other one back to Nearchus. He tossed the commander the reins.

"You'll need that," Hephaestion said before turning back for Alexander. He rode hard, killing many Illyrians on the way, before he reached Alexander's side. Just as the Illyrians began to flee Cassander and the left and right legions hit them. It was working, there were hardly any Illyrians to flee, but they were trying to. Hephaestion looked over at Alexander, who was covered in blood.

"None of them leave," Alexander said as he turned Bucephalus. He had the rage of a warrior at the moment. Hephaestion worried that one-day that would be his demise. But it wouldn't be today, not with Hephaestion riding next to him, so he followed him. They rode out, and Cassander made his way to Alexander's right. They continued to crash through the Illyrians until there were no Illyrians. When the last man fell to the ground at Alexander's sword he let out a barbaric scream. "Show them all, this is why you do not defy Alexander the Great!"

Hephaestion felt the very words cut at his heart. So it would begin. Long ago, after Alexander had shown the world that he could tame the might Bucephalus, his father had congratulated him in front of all.

"My boy," he had said loudly, "seek a kingdom to match yourself. Macedonia is not large enough to hold you."

Hephaestion saw the blood smeared on his face and the way he screamed. He knew it then, even though he didn't want to admit it to himself. Alexander was no longer the Alexander all knew. He had just become Alexander the king. He had just become Alexander the Great. Whether it was for the better or the worse, Hephaestion did not know, but looking at him he feared that this new Alexander would swallow the Alexander of old.


	12. Further Expeditions

Title: "The First Campaign" 

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 12, "Further Expeditions"

A/N: As you all know, the first campaign is over. It is now time to end the story. But there really isn't an end, only a thought as Hephaestion lies in Alexander's embrace. Consider it the beginning of his expedition to Persia, but the end of Alexander the boy, and the emerging of Alexander the Great. I'm in a sad place right now, so if there is lingering sadness it's the truth of the story, but forgive me if it haunts you.

000

Hephaestion ran a hand over the front of Alexander's chest as he lay behind him. He felt the softness of Alexander as well as the hardness of muscles that lay there. Hephaestion looked there, thinking about earlier moments. He then wiped away from dried blood from Alexander's temple. Everything had been different this time. There was no tenderness in their lovemaking. There was nothing that Alexander wanted from him it seemed even. To Hephaestion, who couldn't complain despite the fact, it felt like Hephaestion wanted only to conquer something else. He had, he'd conquered Hephaestion's body, conquered his heart and soul and claimed it as only his and his alone.

Hephaestion let a tear fall from the corner of his eye. He felt the coolness of it as it rolled down his cheek. He ran his fingers over Alexander's arm lightly, tenderly. He then moved away from Alexander. He lay on his back, his eyes drifting down to the bite mark on his own arm. It hadn't been Alexander, he tried to remind himself before he could find the tears. The conqueror, an Alexander that hadn't existed before today, had done this to him.

As he lay there he thought about the boy he had once known. He remembered Alexander in Chaeronea, the Alexander that cared for him, the Alexander that was not afraid to show his love. The years had changed him though. Life had changed him, whether through his campaigns, his mother, or his father, or even Hephaestion himself perhaps. He wasn't a boy anymore and he never would be again. He was Alexander now, a man, and Hephaestion would never fully have him back.

He knew, and he hated knowing it. He craved not to know, to be oblivious to the fact that Alexander wanted the world now. He would take him with him of course, take him across the world, but never again would Hephaestion have all of his heart. He knew this and it tore him apart. His eyes ventured to Alexander again as he slept. He still looked like that boy he'd fallen in love with, the one he'd held in Pella when he was eighteen, but in two years he'd lost him. Looks were deceiving.

Alexander wanted the world now, it was visible in his eyes. He could conquer it all. He would make thousands of men crumple at his feet. Alexander the Great would have it all. But Alexander would be pushed away, and Hephaestion would become a general. A love interest perhaps at times but never again what he had been. Even tonight had shown him this.

Alexander brought him back, blood still upon him even, and had taken him. Hephaestion loved him, loved the heat of it, but when he kissed him it wasn't him. He kissed the fury that Alexander had for the world. He did not kiss Alexander himself, because Alexander hadn't been there. It was passionate, erotic, violent even, their time together on this night. Hephaestion couldn't complain because he had enjoyed it too even.

Tears stung his eyes as he thought of it. Alexander wasn't there. Had he been things still wouldn't have changed. Alexander had dreams and they filled his heart. He would never completely give himself to Hephaestion. Hephaestion knew this, knew that loving him would put him through pain, but he couldn't stop loving him. He wouldn't regret this night or any night afterward. It was strange, he thought, how life became so clear at the moment. It was as if he knew what would happen in the future. He could change his destiny now, but he couldn't, because he looked at Alexander.

Hephaestion pushed himself up on an elbow and pressed a kiss to Alexander's jaw. He left his lips there for some time before he pulled away. He couldn't leave him. Others would, they all eventually would at least loose their faith with him, but Hephaestion would not. He loved him and if loving him meant loving what he had become, what he would become, then so be it. Love was a complicated thing. It would be tender to you in a moment then thrash you in a second's notice.

He looked at his sleeping beauty one more time before he carefully crawled from the bed. It was late and Hephaestion wondered if anyone would be awake to see him leave. He pulled his clothes on quietly though and to the flap of the tent with an expertise he did not know he had. He glanced over his shoulder, turning back to let his cerulean eyes looked over Alexander's sleeping form once more. He then swallowed his emotions as he left the tent.

Once outside the cool night air filled his lungs. He stood, staring at the lamp that emitted a dull light about the area. Hephaestion stepped closer, lifting the glass, and blew out the flame. He watched in silence as the gray trail of smoke lifted towards the heavens. He glanced up at the dark sky and the stars. They were the great men that had come before. Hephaestion noted with a sadness that there was a black area uninhibited by any white light. Silently he whispered a prayer, praying that spot would be filled by no one at this camp, and if it were not for a great while. Not for many years. But deep down he knew it was for Magnus Alexandros.

He walked away from the tent then. He walked without looking at anything else until the glimmer of a small campfire caught his eye. Glancing over his eyes met with Cassander. Cassander stared back at him, his jaw tight, as he poked at the fire with a stick. Hephaestion, who had not stopped, quickly looked away and continued back to his tent. Cassander watched him go, his movements stopping, just thinking of those teary eyes. He had thought that Hephaestion was not meant for Alexander, but maybe it was Alexander that was not meant for Hephaestion.

Hephaestion reached his tent, tears stinging his eyes, his body aching. He felt every forming bruise, every bite mark, and each scratch on his back from Alexander's nails. It was pleasurable and painful at the same time. The wounds didn't bring tears to his eyes though. Something else did, a feeling he'd never known before, but knew he'd feel for the rest of his life.

He stopped and stared at the lamp outside of the tent. He watched the small orange flame dance back and forth in the night. It captivated him, this simple dance, this simple thing. His cerulean eyes glistened with tears as the light fell upon him, fell upon his weakened body, and his parted lips. Hephaestion watched the flame for only a second more before he swallowed, holding back his tears, and rushed into the tent. Tonight, he would allow the lamp to burn.


End file.
